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Frontispiece—Little,  Lame  Prince. 

"it  was  a  boy,  a  shepherd-boy" 


X. 


ALTEMUS      FAVORITE    SERIES 


TH  E    LI  TT  L  E 
LAME    PRINCE 

and    His  Traveling   Cloak 


A  Parable 
For  Old 
And  Yoitng 


by 

Miss   Mulock 


Author  of  "Adventures  of  a  Brownie, 
"John  Halifax   Gentlemen." 


WITH 

TWENTY- FOUR 
ILLUSTRATIONS 


P  H  I  L  A  D  E  L  P   H   I  A 
HENRY  ALTEMUS  COMPANY 


ALTEMUS'    ILLUSTRATED    FAVORITE    SERIES 
FOR   YOUNG    PEOPLE. 


..  1.     ^SOP'S  FABLES,  with  62  illustrations 

..  2.     ALICE'S  ADVENTURES  IN  WONDERLAND,  with 42 illustrations 

..  3.     ANDERSEN'S  FAIRY  TALES,  with  75  illustrations 

..  4.     ARABIAN    NIGHTS   ENTERTAINMENTS,  with  130  illustrations 

..  5.     BUNYAN'S  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS,  with  46  illustrations 

..  6.     CHRISTOPHER     COLUMBUS    AND     THE     DISCOVERY    OF 

AMERICA,  with  70  illustrations 
..  7.     EXPLORATION    AND    ADVENTURES    IN    AFRICA,  with  80 

illustrations 
.  8.     GRIMM'S  FAIRY  TALES,  with  50  illustrations 
.  9.     GULLIVER'S  TRAVELS,  with  50  illustrations 
.10.     LITTLE  LAME  PRINCE,  with  24  illustrations 
.11.     MOTHER  GOOSE'S  RHYMES,  JINGLES  AND  FAIRYTALES, 

with  234  illustrations 
.12.     ROBINSON    CRUSOE.      HIS    STRANGE    AND    SURPRISING 

ADVENTURES,  with  70  illustrations 
.13.     THE  STORY  OF  THE  FROZEN  SEAS,  with  70  illustrations. 
.14.     THROUGH     THE     LOOKING     GLASS  AND     WHAT     ALICE 

FOUND  THERE,  with  50  illustrations 

.15.  WATER  BABIES,  by  CHARLES  KINGSLEY,  with  84  illustrations 

.16.  WOOD'S  NATURAL  HISTORY,  with  80  illustrations 

.17.  RIP  VAN  WINKLE,  with  45  illustrations 

.18.  TALES  FROM  SHAKESPEARE,  with  60  illustrations 


Price  40  Cents  Each 


Henry  Altemus  Company  Philadelphia 


Copyright  1900,  by  Henry  Altemus 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page 
"They   canio,    walking   two   and    two,  with   their 

coronets  on  their  heads" Frontispiece. 

The  Little  Lame  Prince 7 

"The  Crown-Prince,   as   he  was  called,   tried  to 

seem  pleased  " 9 

"She  stretched  herself  on  tip-toe  by  the  help  of 
her  stick,   and  gave  the   little    Prince   three 

kisses" 21 

"The  doctors  came,  and  each  gave  a  different 
opinion,  and  ordered  a  different  mode  of  treat- 
ment"        33 

"Sliding  down  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  he  began 
playing  with  the  golden  lions  that  supported 

it" 37 

"People  noticed  there,  carried  in  a  footman's  arms, 

a  pretty  little  boy" 41 

"There  was  seen  a  great  tall  black  horse,  ridden 
by  a  man  carrying  before  him  on  the  saddle  a 

woman  and  a  child  " 51 

"His  grand  funeral  had  been  a  mere  pretense"...       55 

" He  mounted  to  the  top  of  the  tower" 57 

"Oh,  I  want  somebody — dreadfully,  dreadfully  !"..       63 
"  Dropping  her  cane,  she  laid  those  two  tiny  hands 

on  his  shoulders" 65 

(in) 


iv  Illustrations. 

PAGE 

"  '  What  a  muddle  your  Royal  Highness  is  sitting 

in,'  said  she,  sharply" 71 

"  He  sat  down  on  the  floor,  looking  at  the  empty 

shelves" 91 

"The  cloak  rose,  slowly  and  steadily,  till  it  nearly 

touched  the  sky-light" 97 

"He  felt  something  queer  and  hard  fixing  itself  to 

the  hridge  of  his  nose" 109 

"A  rocking-horse  had  come,  packed  on  the  back 

of  the  other" 115 

"Prince  Dolor  made  a  snatch  at  the  topmost  twig 

of  the  tallest  tree" 125 

"The  shepherd  lad  evidently  took  it  for  a  large 

bird,  and  shading  his  eyes,  looked  up  at  it  "...  131 
"Taking  the  Prince's  slate,  she  wrote,  '  You  are  a 

King'" 151 

"  The  eyes  were  shut,  and  the  long  gray  beard  lay 

over  the  breast" 167 

"  There  was  a  grand  revolution" 179 

"Thev  went  down  on  their  knees  before  him,  offer- 
ing him  the  crown  on  a  velvet  cushion  " 191 

"He  lifted  up  his  thin,  slender  hand" 211 


A 


psiltl 


v^^; 


THE  LITTLE  LAME  PRINCE. 


CHAPTER   I. 


Yes,  he  was  the  most  beautiful  Prince 
that  ever  was  Lorn. 

Of  course,  being  a  prince,  people  said 
this;  but  it  was  true  besides.  When  lie 
looked  at  the  candle  his  eyes  had  an  ex- 
pression of  earnest  inquiry  quite   startling 

(7) 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


in  a  new-born  baby.  His  nose — there  was 
not  much  of  it,  certainly,  but  what  there 
was  seemed  an  aquiline  shape ;  his  com- 
plexion was  a  charming,  healthy  purple; 
he  was  round  and  fat,  straight-limbed  and 
long — in  fact,  a  splendid  baby,  and  every- 
body was  exceedingly  proud  of  him,  espe- 
cially his  father  and  mother,  the  King  and 
Queen  of  ISTomansland,  who  had  waited  for 
him  during  their  happy  reign  of  ten  years — 
now  made  happier  than  ever,  to  themselves 
and  their  subjects,  by  the  appearance  of  a 
son  and  heir. 

The  only  person  who  was  not  quite  happy 
was  the  King's  brother,  the  heir-presump- 
tive, who  would  have  been  king  one  day  had 
the  baby  not  been  born.  But  as  his  Majesty 
was  very  kind  to  him,  and  even  rather  sorry 
for  him — insomuch  that  at  the  Queen's  re- 
quest he  gave  him  a  dukedom  almost  as 
big  as  a  county — the  Crown-Prince,  as  he 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


it 


was  called,  tried  to  seem  pleased  also ;   and 
let  us  hope  he  succeeded. 

The  Prince's    christening  was   to   be    a 


A 


IJk 


'  !,i 


wmm 


*m 


A 


"The  Crown-Prince,  as  he  was  called,    tried  to  seem 
pleased." 

grand  affair.  According  to  the  custom  of 
the  country,  there  were  chosen  for  him 
four-and-twenty  godfathers  and  godmothers, 


10 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


who  each  had  to  give  him  a  name,  and 
promise  to  do  their  utmost  for  him.  "When 
he  came  of  age,  he  himself  had  to  choose 
the  name — and  the  godfather  or  godmother 
— that  he  liked  best,  for  the  rest  of  his  days. 

Meantime  all  was  rejoicing.  Subscrip- 
tions were  made  among  the  rich  to  give 
pleasure  to  the  poor  :  dinners  in  town-halls 
for  the  working-men ;  tea-parties  in  the 
streets  for  their  wives ;  and  milk  and  bun 
feasts  for  the  children  in  the  school-rooms. 
For  Nomansland,  though  I  can  not  point  it 
out  in  any  map,  or  read  of  it  in  any  history, 
was,  I  believe,  much  like  our  own  or  many 
another  country. 

As  for  the  Palace — which  was  no  differ- 
ent from  other  palaces — it  was  clean  "turned 
out  of  the  windows,"  as  people  say,  with 
the  preparations  going  on.  The  only  quiet 
place  in  it  was  the  room  which,  though  the 
Prince  was  six  weeks  old,  his  mother  the 


^>sC; 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


11 


I* 


Queen  Lad  never  quitted.  Nobody  said 
elie  was  ill,  however — it  would  have  been 
so  inconvenient;  and  as  she  said  nothing 
about  it  herself,  but  lay  pale  and  placid, 
giving  no  trouble  to  any  body,  nobody 
thought  much  about  her.  All  the  world 
was  absorbed  in  admiring  the  baby. 

The  christening-day  came  at  last,  and  it 
was  as  lovely  as  the  Prince  himself.  All 
the  people  in  the  Palace  were  lovely  too — 
or  thought  themselves  bo — in  the  elegant 
new  clothes  which  the  Queen,  who  thought 
of  every  body,  had  taken  care  to  give  them, 
from  the  ladies-in-waiting  down  to  the  poor 
little  kitchen-maid,  who  looked  at  herself  in 
her  pink  cotton  gown,  and  thought,  doubt- 
less, that  there  never  was  such  a  pretty  girl 
as  she. 

By  six  in  the  morning  all  the  royal  house- 
hold had  dressed  itself  in  its  very  best; 
and  then  the  little  Prince  was  dressed   in 


IV»J3 


12 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


his  best — his  magnificent  christening-robe; 
which  proceeding  his  Royal  Highness  did 
not  like  at  all,  but  kicked  and  screamed 
like  any  common  baby.  When  he  had  a 
little  calmed  down,  they  carried  him  to  be 
looked  at  by  the  Queen  his  mother,  who, 
though  her  royal  robes  had  been  brought  and 
laid  upon  the  bed,  was,  as  every  body  well 
knew,  quite  unable  to  rise  and  put  them  on. 
She  admired  her  baby  very  much;  kissed 
and  blessed  him,  and  lay  looking  at  him,  as 
she  did  for  hours  sometimes,  when  he  was 
placed  beside  her  fast  asleep ;  then  she  gave 
him  up  with  a  gentle  smile,  and,  saying  she 
hoped  he  would  be  very  good,  that  it  would 
be  a  very  nice  christening,  and  all  the 
guests  would  enjoy  themselves, turned  peace- 
fully over  on  her  bed,  saying  nothing  more 
to  any  body.  She  was  a  very  uncomplain- 
ing person,  the  Queen — and  her  name  was 
Dolorez. 


The  Little  Lame  Trincc. 


13 


Every  thing  went  on  exactly  as  if  she  had 
been  present.  All,  even  the  King  himself, 
had  grown  used  to  her  absence ;  for  she 
was  not  strong,  and  for  years  had  not  joined 
in  any  gayeties.  She  always  did  her  royal 
duties,  but  as  to  pleasures,  they  could  go  on 
quite  well  without  her,  or  it  seemed  so. 
The  company  arrived:  great  and  notable 
persons  in  this  and  neighboring  countries; 
also  the  four-and-twenty  godfathers  and  god- 
mothers, who  had  been  chosen  with  care,  as 
the  people  who  would  be  most  useful  to  his 
Royal  Highness  should  he  ever  want  friends, 
which  did  not  seem  likely.  "What  such 
want  could  possibly  happen  to  the  heir  of 
the  powerful  monarch  of  Nomansland  ? 

They  came,  walking  two  and  two,  with 
their  coronets  on  their  heads — being  dukes 
and  duchesses,  princes  and  princesses,  or 
the  like ;  they  all  kissed  the  child,  and  pro- 
nounced the  name  which  each  had  given 


14 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


him.  Then  the  four-and-twenty  names  were 
shouted  out  with  great  energy  by  six  her- 
alds, one  after  the  other,  and  afterward 
written  down,  to  be  preserved  in  the  state 
records,  in  readiness  for  the  next  time  they 
were  wanted,  which  would  be  either  on  his 
Royal  Highness's  coronation  or  his  funeral. 
Soon  the  ceremony  was  over,  and  every 
body  satisfied;  except,  perhaps,  the  little 
Prince  himself,  who  moaned  faintly  under 
his  christening  robes,  which  nearly  smoth- 
ered him. 

In  truth,  though  very  few  knew,  the 
Prince  in  coming  to  the  chapel  had  met 
with  a  slight  disaster.  His  nurse — not  his 
ordinary  one,  but  the  state  nurse-maid — an 
elegant  and  fashionable  young  lady  of  rank, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  carry  him  to  and  from 
the  chapel,  had  been  so  occupied  in  arrang- 
ing her  train  with  one  hand,  while  she  held 
the  baby  with  the  other,  that  she  stumbled 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


15 


and  let  him  fall,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  marble 
staircase.  To  bo  sure,  she  contrived  to 
pick  him  up  again  the  next  minute ;  and 
the  accident  was  so  slight  it  seemed  hardly 
■worth  speaking  of.  Consequently  nobody 
did  speak  of  it.  The  baby  bad  turned 
deadly  pale,  but  did  not  cry,  so  no  person  a 
step  or  two  behind  could  discover  any 
thing  wrong;  afterward,  even  if  he  had 
moaned,  the  silver  trumpets  were  loud 
enough  to  drown  his  voice.  It  would  have 
been  a  pity  to  let  any  thing  trouble  such  a 
day  of  felicity. 

So,  after  a  minute's  pause,  the  procession 
had  moved  on.  Such  a  procession  !  Her- 
alds in  blue  and  silver ;  pages  in  crimson 
and  gold;  and  a  troop  of  little  girls  in  daz- 
zling white,  carrying  baskets  of  flowers, 
which  they  strewed  all  the  way  before  the 
nurse  and  child — finally  the  four-and-twenty 
godfathers    and    godmothers,  as    proud  as 


16 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


possible,  and  so  splendid  to  look  at  that  they 
would  have  quite  extinguished  their  small 
godson — merely  a  heap  of  lace  and  muslin 
with  a  baby  face  inside — had  it  not  been 
for  a  canopy  of  white  satin  and  ostrich 
feathers  which  was  held  over  him  wherever 
he  was  carried. 

Thus,  with  the  sun  shining  on  them 
through  the  painted  windows,  they  stood; 
the  King  and  his  train  on  one  side,  the 
Prince  and  his  attendants  on  the  other,  as 
pretty  a  sight  as  ever  was  seen  out  of  fairy- 
land. 

"It's  just  like  fairyland,"  whispered  the 
eldest  little  girl  to  the  next  eldest,  as  she 
shook  the  last  rose  out  of  her  basket ;  "  and 
I  think  the  only  thing  the  Prince  wants 
now  is  a  fairy  godmother." 

"  Does  he  ?"  said  a  shrill  but  soft  and  uot 
unpleasant  voice  behind;  and  there  was 
seen  among  the  group  of  children   some- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


17 


body — not  a  child,  yet  no  bigger  than  a 
child — somebody  whom  nobody  had  seen 
before,  and  who  certainly  had  not  been  in- 
vited, for  she  had  no  christening  clothes  on. 

She  was  a  little  old  woman  dressed  all  in 
gray  :  gray  gown ;  gray  hooded  cloak,  of  a 
material  excessively  fine,  and  a  tint  that 
seemed  perpetually  changing,  like  the  gray 
of  an  evening  sky.  Her  hair  was  gray,  and 
her  eyes  also — even  her  complexion  had  a 
soft  gray  shadow  over  it.  But  there  was 
nothing  unpleasantly  old  about  her,  and 
her  smile  was  as  sweet  and  childlike  as  the 
Prince's  own,  which  stole  over  his  pale 
little  face  the  instant  she  came  near  enough 
to  touch  him. 

"Take  care!  Don't  let  the  baby  fall 
again." 

The  grand  young  lady  nurse  started, 
flushing  angrily. 

"  Who    spoke    to   me  ?     How    did    any 


18 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


body  know? — I  mean,  what  business  has 
any  body —  ?"  Then,  frightened,  but  still 
speaking  in  a  much  sharper  tone  than  I 
hope  young  ladies  of  rank  are  in  the  habit 
of  speaking — "  Old  woman,  you  will  be 
kind  enough  not  to  say  'the  baby,'  but  '  the 
Prince.'  Keep  away ;  his  Royal  Highness 
is  just  going  to  sleep." 

"  Nevertheless  I  must  kiss  him.  I  am 
his  godmother." 

"You!"  cried  the  elegant  lady  nurse. 

"  You !  !"  repeated  all  the  gentlemen  and 
ladies  in  waiting. 

"You! ! !"  echoed  the  heralds  and  pages 
— and  they  began  to  blow  the  silver  trum- 
pets in  order  to  stop  all  further  conversa- 
tion. 

The  Prince's  procession  formed  itself  for 


rcturning- 


-the  Kino;  and  his  train  having 


already  moved  off  toward  the  palace — but 
on  the   topmost  step  of  the  marble  stairs 


20 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"Nevertheless  I  know  her  Majesty  well, 
and  I  love  her  and  her  child.  And — since 
you  dropped  him  on  the  marble  stairs  (this 
she  said  in  a  mysterious  whisper,  which 
made  the  young  lady  tremble  in  spite  of 
her  anger) — I  choose  to  take  him  for  my 
own,  and  be  his  godmother,  ready  to  help 
him  whenever  he  wants  me." 

"You  help  him!"  cried  all  the  group, 
breaking  into  shouts  of  laughter,  to  which 
the  little  ^old  woman  paid  not  the  slightest 
attention.  Her  soft  gray  eyes  were  fixed 
on  the  Prince,  who  seemed  to  answer  to 
the  look,  smiling  again  and  again  in  the 
causeless,  aimless  fashion  that  babies  do 
smile. 

"  His  Majesty  must  hear  of  this,"'  said  a 
gentleman-in-waiting. 

"  His  Majesty  will  hear  quite  enough  news 
in  a  minute  or  two,"  said  the  old  woman, 
Badly.     And   again    stretching   up    to    the 


22 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


J)olor,  in  memory  of  your  mother  Do- 
lorez." 

"  In  memory  of!"  Every  body  started 
at  the  ominous  phrase,  and  also  at  a  most 
terrible  breach  of  etiquette  which  the  old 
woman  had  committed.  In  Nomansland, 
neither  the  king  nor  the  queen  were  sup- 
posed to  have  any  Christian  name  at  all. 
They  dropped  it  on  their  coronation-day, 
and  it  was  never  mentioned  again  till  it  was 
engraved  on  their  coffins  when  they  died. 

"  Old  woman,  you  are  exceedingly  ill- 
bred,"  cried  the  eldest  lady-in-waiting,  much 
horrified.  "  How  you  could  know  the  fact 
passes  my  comprehension.  But  even  if 
you  did  not  know  it,  how  dared  you  pre- 
sume to  hint  that  her  most  gracious  Majesty 
is  called  Dolorez  ?" 

"  Was  called  Dolorez,"  said  the  old  wo- 
man, with  a  tender  solemnity. 

The   first   gentleman,    called   the    Gold- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


23 


stick-in-waiting,  raised  it  to  strike  her,  and 
all  the  rest  stretched  out  their  hands  to 
seize  her ;  but  the  gray  mantle  melted  from 
between  their  fingers  like  air;  and,  before 
any  body  had  time  to  do  any  thing  more, 
there  came  a  heavy,  muffled,  startling 
sound. 

The  great  bell  of  the  palace — the  bell 
which  was  only  heard  on  the  death  of  some 
one  of  the  Royal  family,  and  for  as  many 
times  as  he  or  she  was  years  old — began  to 
toll.  They  listened,  mute  and  horror- 
stricken.  Some  one  counted  :  one — two — 
three — four — up  to  nine-and-twcnty — just 
the  Queen's  age. 

It  was,  indeed,  the  Queen.  Her  Majesty 
was  dead  !  In  the  midst  of  the  festivities 
she  had  slipped  away,  out  of  her  new  hap- 
piness and  her  old  sufferings,  not  few  nor 
small.  Sending  away  all  her  women  to  see 
the  grand  sight — at  least  they  said  after- 


24 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


ward,  in  excuse,  that  she  had  done  so,  and 
'it  was  very  like  her  to  do  it — she  had 
turned  with  her  face  to  the  window,  whence 
one  could  just  see  the  tops  of  the  distant 
mountains — the  Beautiful  Mountains,  as 
they  were  called — where  she  was  born. 
So  gazing,  she  had  quietly  died. 

When  the  little  Prince  was  carried  back 
to  his  mother's  room,  there  was  uo  mother 
to  kiss  him.  And,  though  he  did  not  know 
it,  there  would  be  for  him  no  mother's  kiss 
any  more. 

As  for  his  godmother — the  little  old 
woman  in  gray  who  called  herself  so — 
whether  she  melted  into  air,  like  her  gown 
when  they  touched  it,  or  whether  she  flew 
out  of  the  chapel  window,  or  slipped  through 
the  doorway  among  the  bewildered  crowd, 
nobody  knew — nobody  ever  thought  about 
her. 

Only  the  nurse,  the  ordinary  homely  one, 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


25 


coming  out  of  the  Prince's  nursery  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  in  search  of  a  cordial 
to  quiet  his  continual  moans,  saw,  sitting  in 
the  doorway,  something  which  she  would 
have  thought  a  mere  shadow,  had  she  not 
seen  shining  out  of  it  two  eyes,  gray  and 
soft  and  sweet.  She  put  her  hand  before 
her  own,  screaming  loudly.  When  she 
took  them  away,  the  old  woman  was  gone. 


^ 


--. 


26 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Every  body  was  very  kind  to  the  poor 
little  Prince.  I  think  people  generally  are 
kind  to  motherless  children,  whether  princes 
or  peasants.  He  had  a  magnificent  nursery, 
and  a  regular  suite  of  attendants,  and  was 
treated  with  the  greatest  respect  and  state. 
Nobody  was  allowed  to  talk  to  him  in  silly 
baby  language,  or  dandle  him,  or,  above  all, 
to  kiss  him,  though  perhaps  some  people 
did  it  surreptitiously,  for  he  was  such  a 
sweet  baby  that  it  was  difficult  to  help  it. 

It  could  not  be  said  that  the  Prince  missed 
his  mother — children  of  his  age  can  not  do 
that ;  but  somehow  after  she  died  every 
thing  seemed  to  go  wrong  with  him.  From 
a  beautiful  baby  he  became  sickly  and  pale,, 
seeming   to    have    almost  ceased  growing, 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


27 


especially  in  his  legs,  which  had  been  so  fat 
and  strong.  But  after  the  day  of  his  chris- 
tening they  withered  and  shrank;  he  no 
longer  kicked  them  out  either  in  passion  or 
play,  and  "when,  as  he  got  to  be  nearly  a 
year  old,  his  nurse  tried  to  make  him  stand 
upon  them,  he  only  tumbled  down. 

This  happened  so  many  times  that  at  last 
people  began  to  talk  about  it.  A  prince, 
and  not  able  to  stand  on  his  own  legs! 
What  a  dreadful  thing !  what  a  misfortune 
for  the  country ! 

Rather  a  misfortune  to  him  also,  poor 
little  boy !  but  nobody  seemed  to  think  of 
that,  And  when,  after  a  while,  his  health 
revived,  and  the  old  bright  look  came  back 
to  his  sweet  little  face,  and  his  body  grew 
larger  and  stronger,  though  still  his  legs 
remained  the  same,  people  continued  to 
speak  of  him  in  whispers,  and  with  grave 
shakes   of  the   head.     Every  body   knew, 


28 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


though  nobody  said  it,  that  something,  it 
fwas  impossible  to  guess  what,  was  not  quite 
right  with  the  poor  little  Prince. 

Of  course,  nobody  hinted  this  to  the  King 
his  father:  it  does  not  do  to  tell  great  people 
any  thing  unpleasant.  And  besides,  his 
Majesty  took  very  little  notice  of  his  son,  or 
of  his  other  affairs,  beyond  the  necessary 
duties  of  his  kingdom.  People  had  said  he 
would  not  miss  the  Queen  at  all,  she  having 
been  so  long  an  invalid,  but  he  did.  After 
her  death  he  never  was  quite  the  same, 
lie  established  himself  in  her  empty  rooms, 
the  only  rooms  in  the  palace  whence  one 
could  see  the  Beautiful  Mountains,  and  was 
often  observed  looking  at  them  as  if  he 
thought  she  had  flown  away  thither,  and 
that  his  longing  could  bring  her  back  again. 
And  by  a  curious  coincidence,  which  nobody 
dared  inquire  into,  he  desired  that  the  Prince 
might  be  called,  not  by  any  of  the  four-and- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


20 


twenty  grand  names  given  him  by  hie  god- 
fathers and  godmothers,  but  by  the  identical 
name  mentioned  by  the  little  old  woman  in 
gray — Dolor,  after  his  mother  Dolorez. 

Onee  a  week,  according  to  established 
state  custom,  the  Prince,  dressed  in  his 
very  best,  was  brought  to  the  King  his 
father  for  half  an  hour,  but  his  Majesty  was 
generally  too  ill  and  too  melancholy  to  pay 
much  heed  to  the  child. 

Only  once,  when  he  and  the  Crown- 
Prince,  who  was  exceedingly  attentive  to 
his  royal  brother,  were  sitting  together, 
with  Prince  Dolor  playing  in  a  corner  of 
the  room,  dragging  himself  about  with  his 
arms  rather  than  his  legs,  and  sometimes 
trying  feebly  to  crawl  from  one  chair  to 
another,  it  seemed  to  strike  the  father  that 
all  was  not  right  with  his  son. 

"How  old  is  his  Royal  Highness  ?"  said 
he  suddenly  to  the  nurse. 


30 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"  Two  years,  three  months,  and  five  days, 
please  your  Majesty." 

"  It  does  not  please  me,"  said  the  King, 
with  a  sigh.  "  He  ought  to  be  far  more  for- 
ward than  he  is  now — ought  he  not, brother? 
You,  who  have  so  many  children, must  know. 
Is  there  not  something  wrong  about  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  Crown-Prince,  ex- 
changing meaning  looks  with  the  nurse, 
who  did  not  understand  at  all,  but  stood 
frightened  and  trembling  with  the  tears  in 
her  eyes.  "  Nothing  to  make  your  Majesty 
at  all  uneasy.  No  doubt  his  Royal  High- 
ness will  outgrow  it  in  time." 

"  Outgrow — what  ?" 

"A  slight  delicacy — ahem  ! — in  the  spine; 
something  inherited,  perhaps,  from  his  dear 
mother." 

"Ah,  she  was  always  delicate;  but  she 
was  the  sweetest  woman  that  ever  lived. 
Come  here,  my  little  son." 


j.-f'L 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


31 


And  as  the  Prince  turned  round  upon  his 
father  a  small,  sweet,  grave  face — so  like  his 
mother's — his  Majesty  the  King  smiled  and 
held  out  his  arms.  Put  when  the  boy 
came  to  him,  not  running  like  a  hoy,  hut 
wriggling  awkwardly  along  the  floor,  the 
royal  countenance  clouded  over. 

"  I  ought  to  have  been  told  of  this.  It  is 
terrible — terrible!  And  for  a  prince,  too. 
Send  for  all  the  doctors  in  my  kingdom  im- 
mediately." 

They  came,  and  each  gave  a  different 
opinion,  and  ordered  a  different  mode  of 
treatment.  The  only  thing  they  agreed  in 
was  what  had  been  pretty  well  known  be- 
fore, that  the  Prince  must  have  been  hurt 
when  he  was  an  infant — let  fall,  perhaps,  so 
as  to  injure  his  spine  and  lower  limbs.  Did 
nobody  remember  ? 

No,  nobody.  Indignantly,  all  the  nurses 
denied    that    any   such    accident    had    hap- 


32 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


pened,  was  possible  to  have  happened,  until 
the  faithful  country  nurse  recollected  that 
it  really  had  happened  on  the  day  of  the 
christening.  For  which  unluckily  good 
memory  all  the  others  scolded  her  so  se- 
verely that  she  had  no  peace  of  her  life,  and 
soon  after,  by  the  influence  of  the  young 
lady  nurse  who  had  carried  the  baby  that 
fatal  day,  and  who  was  a  sort  of  connection 
of  the  Crown-Prince — being  his  wife's  sec- 
ond cousin  once  removed — the  poor  woman 
was  pensioned  off,  and  sent  to  the  Beautiful 
Mountains,  from  whence  she  came,  with  or- 
ders to  remain  there  for  the  rest  of  her 
days. 

But  of  all  this  the  King  knew  nothing, 
for,  indeed,  after  the  first  shock  of  finding 
out  that  his  son  could  not  walk,  and  seemed 
never  likely  to  walk,  he  interfered  very  lit- 
tle concerning  him.  The  whole  thing  was 
too   painful,  and  his   Majesty  never   liked 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


33 


painful  things.  Sometimes  lie  inquired 
after  Prince  Dolor,  and  they  told  liini  Lis 
Royal  Highness  was  going  on  as  well  as 
could  be  expected,  which  really  was  the 
case.  For,  after  worrying  the  poor  child 
and  perplexing  themselves  with  one  remedy 


"  The  doctors  came,  and  each  gave  a  different  opinion, 
and  ordered  a  different  mode  of  treatment." 

after  another,  the  Crown-Prince,  not  wish- 
ing to  offend  any  of  the  differing  doctors, 
had  proposed  leaving  him  to  Nature ;  and 
Nature,  the  safest  doctor  of  all,  had  come 
to  his  help,  and  done  her  best.  He  could 
not  walk,  it  is  true;  his  limbs  were  mere 


v;-> 


34 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


useless  appendages  to  his  body;  but  the 
body  itself  was  strong  and  sound.  And 
his  face  Avas  the  same  as  ever — -just  his 
mother's  face,  one  of  the  sweetest  in  the 
world. 

Even  the  King,  indifferent  as  he  was, 
sometimes  looked  at  the  little  fellow  with 
sad  tenderness,  noticing  how  cleverly  he 
learned  to  crawl  and  swing  himself  about 
by  his  arms,  so  that  in  his  own  awkward 
way  he  was  as  active  in  motion  as  most 
children  of  his  age. 

"  Poor  little  man !  he  does  his  best,  and 
he  is  not  unhappy — not  half  so  unhappy  as 
I,  brother,"  addressing  the  Crown-Prince, 
who  was  more  constant  than  ever  in  his  at- 
tendance upon  the  sick  monarch.  "  If  any- 
thing should  befall  me,  I  have  appointed 
you  as  Regent.  In  case  of  my  death,  you 
will  take  care  of  my  poor  little  boy  ?" 

Certainly,  certainly ;  but  do  not  let  us  im- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


35 


agino  any  such  misfortune.  I  assure  your 
Majesty — everybody  will  assure  you — that 
it  is  not  in  the  least  likely." 

lie  knew,  however,  and  everybody  knew, 
that  it  was  likely,  and  soon  after  it  actually 
did  happen.  The  King  died  as  suddenly 
and  quietly  as  the  Queen  had  done — indeed, 
in  her  very  room  and  bed ;  and  Prince  Dolor 
was  left  without  either  father  or  mother — 
as  sad  a  thing  as  could  happen,  even  to  a 
prince. 

lie  was  more  than  that  now,  though.  He 
was  a  king.  In  Nbmansland,  as  in  other 
countries,  the  people  were  struck  with  grief 
one  day  and  revived  the  next.  "  The  king 
is  dead — long  live  the  king!"  was  the  cry 
that  rang  through  the  nation,  and  almost 
before  his  late  Majesty  had  been  laid  beside 
the  Queen  in  their  splendid  mausoleum, 
crowds  came  thronging  from  all  parts  to  the 
royal  palace,  eager  to  see  the  new  monarch. 


36 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


They  did  see  him — the  Prince  Regent 
took  care  they  should — sitting  on  the  floor 
of  the  council-chamber,  sucking  his  thumb  ! 
And  when  one  of  the  gentlemen-in-waiting 
lifted  him  up  and  carried  him — fancy  carry- 
ing a  king  ! — to  the  chair  of  state,  and  put 
the  crown  on  his  head,  he  shook  it  off  again, 
it  was  so  heavy  and  uncomfortable.  Sliding 
down  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  he  began 
playing  with  the  golden  lions  that  supported 
it,  stroking  their  paws  and  putting  his  tiny 
fingers  into  their  eyes,  and  laughing — laugh- 
ing  as  if  he  had  at  last  found  something  to 
amuse  him. 

"  There's  a  fine  king  for  you !"  said  the 
first  lord-in-waiting,  a  friend  of  the  Prince 
Regent's  (the  Crown-Prince  that  used  to  be, 
who,  in  the  deepest  mourning,  stood  silently 
beside  the  throne  of  his  young  nephew. 
He  was  a  handsome  man,  very  grand  and 
clever-looking).     "  What  a  king !  who  can 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


37 


never  stand  to  receive  his  subjects,  never 
walk  in  processions,  who  to  the  last  day  of 
his  life  will  have  to  be  carried  about  like  a 
baby.     Very  unfortunate !" 


"  Sliding  down  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  he  began  play- 
ing with  the  golden  lions  that  supported  it." 

"  Exceedingly  unfortunate,"  repeated  the 
*  second  lord.       "  It  is  always  bad  for  a  na- 
tion when  its  king  is  a  child ;  but  such  a 
child — a  permanent  cripple,  if  not  worse." 
"  Let  us  hope  not  worse,"  said  the  first  lord 


38 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


in  a  very  hopeless  tone,  and  looking  toward 
the  Regent,  who  stood  erect  and  pretended 
to  hear  nothing.  "  I  have  heard  that  these 
sort  of  children  with  very  large  heads,  and 
great  broad  foreheads  and  staring  eyes,  are 
— well,  well,  let  us  hope  for  the  best  and  be 
prepared  for  the  worst.   In  the  mean  time — " 

"  I  swear,"  said  the  Crown-Prince,  com- 
ing forward  and  kissing  the  hilt  of  his  sword 
— "  I  swear  to  perform  my  duties  as  Regent, 
to  take  all  care  of  his  Royal  Highness — 
his  Majesty,  I  mean,"  with  a  grand  bow  to 
the  little  child,  who  laughed  innocently 
back  again.  "  And  I  will  do  my  humble 
best  to  govern  the  country.  Still,  if  the 
country  has  the  slightest  objection — " 

But  the  Crown-Prince  being  generalissi- 
mo, and  having  the  whole  army  at  his  beck 
and  call,  so  that  he  could  have  begun  a  civil 
war  in  no  time,  the  countr}T  had,  of  course, 
not  the  slightest  objection. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


39 


So  the  King  and  Queen  slept  together  in 
peace,  and  Prince  Dolor  reigned  over  the 
land — that  is,  his  uncle  did;  and  every 
body  said  what  a  fortunate  thing  it  was  tor 
the  poor  little  Prince  to  have  such  a  clever 
uncle  to  take  care  of  him.  All  things  went 
on  as  usual;  indeed,  after  the  Regent  had 
brought  his  wife  and  her  seven  sons,  and  es- 
tablished them  in  the  palace,  rather  better 
than  usual.  For  they  gave  such  splendid 
entertainments  and  made  the  capital  so 
lively  that  trade  revived,  and  the  country 
was  said  to  be  more  flourishing  than  it  had 
been  for  a  century. 

Whenever  the  Regent  and  his  sons  ap- 
peared, they  were  received  with  shouts — 
"  Long  live  the  Crown-Prince  !"  "  Long 
live  the  Royal  family!"  And,  in  truth, 
they  were  very  fine  children,  the  whole 
seven  of  them,  and  made  a  great  show 
when  they  rode  out  together  on  seven  beau- 


wm 


40 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


tiful  horses,  one  height  above  another,  clown 
to  the  youngest,  on  his  tiny  black  pony,  no 
bigger  than  a  large  clog. 

As  for  the  other  child,  his  Royal  High- 
ness Prince  Dolor — for  somehow  people 
soon  ceased  to  call  him  his  Majesty,  which 
seemed  such  a  ridiculous  title  for  a  poor 
little  fellow,  a  helpless  cripple,  with  only 
head  and  trunk,  and  no  legs  to  speak  of — 
he  was  seen  very  seldom  by  any  body. 

Sometimes  people  daring  enough  to  peer 
over  the  high  wall  of  the  palace  garden 
noticed  there,  carried  in  a  footman's  arms, 
or  drawn  in  a  chair,  or  left  to  play  on  the 
grass,  often  with  nobody  to  mind  him,  a 
pretty  little  boy,  with  a  bright,  intelligent 
face  and  large,  melancholy  eyes — no,  not 
exactly  melancholy,  for  they  were  his  mo- 
ther's, and  she  was  by  no  means  sad-minded, 
but  thoughtful  and  dreamy.  They  rather 
perplexed  people,  those  childish  eyes  ;  they 


42 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


prise — the  child  never  talked  much — that 
every  naughty  person  in  the  palace  was 
rather  afraid  of  Prince  Dolor. 

lie  could  not  help  it,  and  perhaps  he  did 
not  even  know  it,  being  no  better  a  child 
than  many  other  children,  but  there  was 
something  about  him  which  made  bad  peo- 
ple sorry,  and  grumbling  people  ashamed 
of  themselves,  and  ill-natured  people  gentle 
and  kind.  I  suppose  because  they  were 
touched  to  see  a  poor  little  fellow  who  did 
not  in  the  least  know  what  had  befallen  him 
or  what  lay  before  him,  living  his  baby 
life  as  happy  as  the  day  was  long.  Thus, 
whether  or  not  he  Avas  good  himself,  the 
sight  of  him  and  his  affliction  made  other 
people  good,  and,  above  all,  made  every 
body  love  him — so  much  so,  that  his  uncle 
the  Regent  began  to  feel  a  little  uncomfort- 
able. 

Now  I  have  nothing  to  say  against  uncles 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


43 


in  general.  They  are  usually  very  excellent 
people,  and  very  convenient  to  little  boys 
and  girls.  Even  the  "cruel  uncle"  of 
"  The  Babes  in  the  Wood  "  I  believe  to  be 
quite  an  exceptional  character.  And  this 
"  cruel  uncle  "  of  whom  I  am  telling;  was,  I 
hope,  an  exception  too. 

lie  did  not  mean  to  be  cruel.  If  any 
body  had  called  him  so,  he  would  have  re- 
sented it  extremely  :  lie  Would  have  said 
that  what  lie  did  was  done  entirely  for  the 
good  of  the  country.  But  he  was  a  man 
who  had  always  been  accustomed  to  con- 
sider himself  first  and  foremost,  believing 
that  whatever  he  wanted  was  sure  to  be 
right,  and  therefore  he  ought  to  have  it. 
So  he  tried  to  get  it,  and  got  it  too,  as  peo- 
ple like  him  very  often  do.  Whether  they 
enjoy  it  when  they  have  it  is  another  ques- 
tion. 

Therefore  he  went  one  day  to  the  council- 


44 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


^:§ 


chamber,  determined  on  making  a  speech, 
and  informing  the  ministers  and  the  country 
at  large  that  the  young  King  was  in  failing 
health,  and  that  it  would  be  advisable  to 
send  him  for  a  time  to  the  Beautiful  Moun- 
tains. Whether  he  really  meant  to  do  this, 
or  whether  it  occurred  to  him  afterward 
that  there  would  be  an  easier  way  of  attain- 
ing his  great  desire,  the  crown  of  Romans- 
land,  is  a  point  which  I  can  not  decide. 

But  soon  after,  when  he  had  obtained  an 
order  in  council  to  send  the  King  away — 
which  was  done  in  great  state,  with  a  guard 
of  honor  composed  of  two  whole  regiments 
of  soldiers — the  nation  learned,  without 
much  surprise,  that  the  poor  little  Prince — 
nobody  ever  called  him  king  now — had 
gone  a  much  longer  journey  than  to  the 
Beautiful  Mountains. 

lie  had  fallen  ill  on  the  road  and  died 
within  a  few  hours ;  at  least  so  declared  the 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


45 


physician  in  attendance  and  the  nurse  who 
had  been  sent  to  take  care  of  him.  They 
brought  his  coffin  back  in  great  state,  and 
buried  it  in  the  mausoleum  with  his  parents. 
So  Prince  Dolor  was  seen  no  more.  The 
country  went  into  deep  mourning  for  him, 
and  then  forgot  him,  and  his  uncle  reigned 
in  his  stead.  That  illustrious  personage 
accepted  his  crown  with  great  decorum,  and 
wore  it  with  great  dignity  to  the  last.  But 
whether  lie  enjoyed  it  or  not  there  is  no 
evidenee  to  show. 


46 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


CHAPTER   III. 


And  what  of  the  little  lame  Prince,  whom 
every  body  seemed  so  easily  to  have  for- 
gotten ? 

Not  every  body.  There  were  a  few  kind 
souls,  mothers  of  families,  who  had  heard 
his  sad  story,  and  some  servants  about  the 
palace,  who  had  been  familiar  with  his 
sweet  ways — these  many  a  time  sighed  and 
said  "  Poor  Prince  Dolor  !"  Or,  looking  at 
the  Beautiful  Mountains,  which  were  visible 
all  over  Nomansland,  though  few  people 
ever  visited  them,  "  AVell,  perhaps  his  Royal 
Highness  is  better  where  he  is  than  even 
there." 

They  did  not  know — indeed,  hardly  any 
body  did  know — that  beyond  the  moun- 
tains, between  them  and  the  sea,  lay  a  tract 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


47 


of  country,  barren,  level,  bare,  except  for 
short,  stunted  grass,  and  here  and  there  a 
patch  of  tiny  flowers.  Not  a  hush — not  a 
tree — not  a  resting-place  for  bird  or  beast 
was  in  that  dreary  plain.  In  summer,  the 
sunshine  fell  upon  it  hour  after  hour  with  a 
blinding  glare;  in  winter,  the  winds  and 
rains  swept  over  it  unhindered,  and  the 
snow  came  down  steadily,  noiselessly,  cover- 
ing it  from  end  to  end  in  one  great  white 
sheet,  which  lay  for  days  and  weeks  un- 
marked by  a  single  footprint. 

Not  a  pleasant  place  to  live  in — and  no- 
body did  live  there,  apparently.  The  only 
sign  that  human  creatures  had  ever  been 
near  the  spot  was  one  large  round  tower 
which  rose  up  in  the  centre  of  the  plain, 
and  might  be  seen  all  over  it — if  there  had 
been  any  body  to  see,  which  there  never 
was.  Rose  right  up  out  of  the  ground,  as 
if  it  had  grown  of  itself,  like  a  mushroom. 


Z&2] 


48 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


But  it  was  not  at  all  mushroom-like ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  was  very  solidly  built.  In  form 
it  resembled  the  Irish  round  towers,  which 
have  puzzled  people  for  so  long,  nobody  be- 
ing able  to  find  out  when,  or  by  whom,  or  for 
what  purpose  they  were  made;  seemingly 
for  no  use  at  all,  like  this  tower.  It  was 
circular,  of  very  firm  brickwork,  with 
neither  doors  nor  windows,  until  near  the 
top,  when  you  could  perceive  some  slits  in 
the  wall  through  which  one  might  possibly 
creep  in  or  look  out.  Its  height  was  nearly 
a  hundred  feet,  and  it  had  a  battlemented 
parapet,  showing  sharp  against  the  sky. 

As  the  plain  was  quite  desolate — almost 
like  a  desert,  only  without  sand,  and  led  to 
nowhere  except  the  still  more  desolate  sea- 
coast — nobody  ever  crossed  it.  Whatever 
mystery  there  was  about  the  tower,  it  and 
the  sky  and  the  plain  kept  their  secret  to 
themselves. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


49 


It  was  a  very  great  secret  indeed — a  state 
secret — which  none  but  so  clever  a  man  as 
the  present  King  of  Nomansland  would 
ever  have  thought  of.  How  he  carried  it 
out,  undiscovered,  I  can  not  tell.  People 
said,  long  afterward,  that  it  was  by  means 
of  a  gang  of  condemned  criminals,  who 
were  set  to  work,  and  executed  immediately 
after  they  had  done,  so  that  nobody  knew 
anything,  or  in  the  least  suspected  the  real 
fact. 

And  what  was  the  fact?  Why,  that  this 
tower,  which  seemed  a  mere  mass  of  ma- 
sonry, utterly  forsaken  and  uninhabited, 
was  not  so  at  all.  Within  twenty  feet 
of  the  top  some  ingenious  architect  had 
planned  a  perfect  little  house,  divided  into 
four  rooms — as  by  drawing  a  cross  within  a 
circle  you  will  see  might  easily  be  done. 
By  making  sky-lights,  and  a  few  slits  in  the 
walls    for    windows,  and  raising   a  peaked 


50 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


roof  which  was  hidden  by  the  parapet,  here 
was  a  dwelling  complete,  eighty  feet  from 
the  ground,  and  as  inaccessible  as  a  rook's 
nest  on  the  top  of  a  tree. 

A  charming  place  to  live  in!  if  you  oiue 
got  up  there,  and  never  wanted  to  come 
down  again. 

Inside — though  nobody  could  have  looked 
inside  except  a  bird,  and  hardly  even  a  bird 
new  past  that  lonely  tower — inside  it  was 
furnished  with  all  the  comfort  and  elegance 
imagi nable  ;  with  lots  of  books  and  toys, 
and  every  thing  that  the  heart  of  a  child 
could  desire.  For  its  only  inhabitant,  ex- 
cept a  nurse,  of  course,  was  a  poor  solitary 
child. 

One  winter  night,  when  all  the  plain  was 
white  with  moonlight,  there  was  seen  cross- 
ing it  a  great  tall  black  horse,  ridden  by  a 
man  also  big  and  equally  black,  carrying 
before  him  on  the  saddle  a  woman  and  a 


"  Carrying  before  him  a  woman  and  child." 


(51) 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


53 


child.  The  woman — she  had  a  sad,  fierce 
look,  and  no  wonder,  for  she  was  a  criminal 
under  sentence  of  death,  but  her  sentence 
had  boon  changed  to  almost  as  severe  a 
punishment.  She  was  to  inhabit  the  lonely 
tower  with  the  child,  and  was  allowed  to 
live  as  long  as  the  child  lived — no  longer. 
This,  in  order  that  she  might  take  the  utmost 
care  of  him ;  for  those  who  put  him  there 
were  equally  afraid  of  his  dying  and  of  his 
living.  And  yet  he  was  only  a  little  gentle 
boy,  with  a  sweet,  sleepy  smile — he  had 
been  very  tired  with  his  long  journey — and 
clinging  arms,  which  held  tight  to  the  man's 
neck,  for  he  was  rather  frightened,  and  the 
face,  black  as  it  was,  looked  kindly  at  him. 
And  he  was  very  helpless,  with  his  poor, 
small,  shriveled  legs,  which  could  neither 
stand  nor  run  away — for  the  little  forlorn 
boy  was  Prince  Dolor. 

He  had  not  been  dead  at  all — or  buried 


54 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


either.  His  grand  funeral  had  been  a  mere 
pretense:  a  wax  figure  having  been  put  in 
his  place,  while  he  himself  was  spirited 
away  under  charge  of  these  two,  the  con- 
demned woman  and  the  black  man.  The 
latter  was  deaf  and  dumb,  so  could  neither 
tell  nor  repeat  any  thing. 

"When  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  tower, 
there  was  light  enough  to  see  a  huge  chain 
dangling  from  the  parapet,  but  dangling 
only  half  way.  The  deaf-mute  took  from 
his  saddle-wallet  a  sort  of  ladder,  arranged 
in  pieces  like  a  puzzle,  fitted  it  together, 
and  lifted  it  up  to  meet  the  chain.  Then 
he  mounted  to  the  top  of  the  tower,  and 
slung  from  it  a  sort  of  chair,  in  which  the 
woman  and  the  child  placed  themselves  and 
were  drawn  up,  never  to  come  down  again 
as  long  as  they  lived.  Leaving  them  there, 
the  man  descended  the  ladder,  took  it  to 
pieces   again   and   packed  it  in  his  pack, 


The  Little  Lame  Prince.  55 

mounted  the  horse,  and  disappeared  across 
the  plain. 

Every  month  they  used  to  watch  for  him, 
appearing  like  a  speck  in  the  distance.  lie 
fastened  his  horse  to  the  foot  of  the  tower, 
and  climbed  it,  as  before,  laden  with  pro- 


"His  grand  funeral  had  been  a  mere  pretense." 

visions  and  many  other  things.  lie  always 
saw  the  Prince,  so  as  to  make  sure  that  the 
child  was  alive  and  well,  and  then  went 
away  until  the  following  month. 

While  his  first  childhood  lasted,  Prince 
Dolor   was  happy  enough.     lie  had  every 


CS 


56 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


luxury  that  even  a  prince  could  need,  and 
the  one  thing  wanting — love — never  having 
known,  he  did  not  miss.  His  nurse  was 
very  kind  to  him,  though  she  was  a  wicked 
woman.  But  either  she  had  not  been  quite 
so  wicked  as  people  said,  or  she  grew  Letter 
through  being  shut  up  continually  with  a 
little  innocent  child,  who  was  dependent 
upon  her  for  every  comfort  and  pleasure  of 
his  life. 

It  was  not  an  unhappy  life.  There  was 
nobody  to  tease  or  ill-use  him,  and  he  was 
never  ill.  lie  played  about  from  room  to 
room — there  were  four  rooms,  parlor, 
kitchen,  his  nurse's  bedroom,  and  his  own; 
learned  to  crawl  like  a  fly,  and  to  jump  like 
a  frog,  and  to  run  about  on  all-fours  almost 
as  fast  as  a  puppy.  In  fact,  he  was  very 
much  like  a  puppy  or  a  kitten,  as  thought- 
less and  as  merry — scarcely  ever  cross, 
though  sometimes  a  little  weary. 


u  He  mounted  to  the  top  of  the  tower." 

(67) 


The  Little  Lame  Prince, 


59 


As  he  grew  older,  ho  occasionally  liked  to 
be  quiet  for  a  while,  and  then  lie  would  sit 
at  the  slits  of  windows — which  were,  how- 
ever, much  bigger  than  they  looked  from 
the  bottom  of  the  tower — and  watch  the 
sky  above  and  the  ground  below,  with  the 
storms  sweeping  over  and  the  sunshine 
coming  and  going,  and  the  shadows  of  the 
clouds  running  races  across  the  blank  plain. 

By  and  by  he  began  to  learn  lessons — 
not  that  his  nurse  had  been  ordered  to 
teach  him,  but  she  did  it  partly  to  amuse 
herself.  She  was  not  a  stupid  woman,  and 
Prince  Dolor  was  by  no  means  a  stupid 
boy;  so  they  got  on  very  well,  and  his  con- 
tinual entreaty,  "  What  can  I  do  ?  what  can 
you  find  me  to  do  ?"  was  stopped,  at  least 
for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  day. 

It  was  a  dull  life,  but  he  had  never  known 
any  other;  anyhow,  he  remembered  no 
other,  and  he  did  not  pity  himself  at  all. 


60 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Not  for  a  long  time,  till  he  grew  quite  a 
big  little  boy,  and  could  read  quite  easily. 
Then  he  suddenly  took  to  books,  which  the 
deaf-mute  brought  him  from  time  to  time — 
books  which,  not  being  acquainted  with  the 
literature  of  Nbmansland,  I  can  not  de- 
scribe, but  no  doubt  they  were  very  inter- 
esting; and  they  informed  him  of  every 
thing  in  the  outside  world,  and  filled  him 
with  an  intense  longing  to  see  it. 

From  this  time  a  change  came  over  the 
boy.  He  began  to  look  sad  and  thin,  and 
to  shut  himself  up  for  hours  without  speak- 
ing. For  his  nurse  hardly  spoke,  and  what- 
ever questions  he  asked  beyond  their  ordi- 
nary daily  life  she  never  answered.  She 
had,  indeed,  been  forbidden,  on  pain  of 
death,  to  tell  him  any  thing  about  himself, 
who  he  was,  or  what  he  might  have  been. 
He  knew  he  was  Prince  Dolor,  because  she 
always  addressed  him  as  "  My  Prince,"  and 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


61 


"Your  Royal  Highness,"  but  what  :i  prince 
was  ho  had  not  the  least  idea.  He  had  no 
idea  of  any  thing  in  the  world,  except  what 
he  found  in  his  books. 

He  sat  one  day  surrounded  by  them,  hav- 
ing built  them  up  round  him  like  a  little 
castle  wall.  He  had  been  reading  them  half 
the  day,  but  feeling  all  the  while  that  to 
read  about  things  which  you  never  can  see  is 
like  hearing  about  a  beautiful  dinner  while 
you  are  starving.  For  almost  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  grew  melancholy ;  his  hands 
fell  on  his  lap;  he  sat  gazing  out  of  the 
window-slit  upon  the  view  outside — the 
view  he  had  looked  at  every  day  of  his  life, 
and  might  look  at  for  endless  days  more. 

!N"ot  a  very  cheerful  view — -just  the  plain 
and  the  sky — but  he  liked  it.  He  used  to 
think,  if  he  could  only  fly  out  of  that  win- 
dow, up  to  the  sky  or  down  to  the  plain, 
how  nice  it  would  be !     Perhaps  when  he 


62 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


died — his  nurse  had  told  him  once  in  anger 
that  he  would  never  leave  the  tower  till  he 
died — he  might  be  able  to  do  this.  Not 
that  he  understood  much  what  dying 
meant,  but  it  must  be  a  change,  and  any 
change  seemed  to  him  a  blessing. 

"  And  I  wish  I  had  somebody  to  tell  me 
all  about  it — about  that  and  many  other 
things  ;  somebody  that  would  be  fond  of  me, 
like  my  poor  white  kitten." 

Here  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes,  for  the 
boy's  one  friend,  the  one  interest  of  his  life, 
had  been  a  little  white  kitten,  which  the 
deaf-mute,  kindly  smiling,  once  took  out  of 
his  pocket  and  gave  him — the  only  living 
creature  Prince  Dolor  had  ever  seen.  For 
four  weeks  it  was  his  constant  plaything 
and  companion,  till  one  moonlight  night  it 
took  a  fancy  for  wandering,  climbed  onto 
the  parapet  of  the  tower,  dropped  over  and 
disappeared.     It  was  not  killed,  he  hoped, 


WY 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


G3 


for  cats  have  nine  lives;  indeed,  he  al- 
most fancied  he  saw  it  pick  itself  up  and 
scamper  away ;  but  he  never  caught  sight  of 
it  more. 


Oh,  I  want  somebody — dreadfully,  dreadfully  I" 


"  Yes,  I  wish  I  had  something  better  than 
a  kitten — a  person,  a  real  live  person,  who 
would  be  fond  of  me  and  kind  to  me.  Oh, 
I  want  somebody — dreadfully,  dreadfully!" 

As  he  spoke,  there  sounded  behind  him 


64 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


a  slight  tap-tap-tap,  as  of  a  stick  or  a  cane, 
and  twisting  himself  round,  tie  saw --what 
do  you  think  he  saw  ? 

Nothing  either  frightening  or  ugly,  but 
still  exceedingly  curious.  A  little  woman, 
no  bigger  than  he  might  himself  have  been 
had  his  legs  grown  like  those  of  other  chil- 
dren; but  she  was  not  a  child — she  was  an 
old  woman.  Her  hair  was  gray,  and  her 
dress  was  gray,  and  there  was  a  gray  shadow 
over  her  wherever  she  moved.  But  she 
had  the  sweetest  smile,  the  prettiest  hands, 
and  when  she  spoke  it  was  in  the  softest 
voice  imaginable. 

"  My  dear  little  boy" — and  dropping  her 
cane,  the  only  bright  and  rich  thing  about 
her,  she  laid  those  two  tiny  hands  on  his 
shoulders — "  my  own  little  boy,  I  could  not 
come  to  you  until  you  had  said  you  wanted 
me ;  but  now  you  do  want  me,  here  I  am." 

"  And  you  are  very  welcome,  madam," 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


65 


replied  the  Prince,  trying  to  speak  politely, 
as  princes  always  did  in  hooks;  "  and  I  am 
exceedingly  obliged  to  yon.  May  I  ask 
who  you  are  ?     Perhaps  my  mother  ?"     For 


ilTW 


«.•!■'    ■„;,. 


1:1  1 


J! 


ti     "Dropping  her  cane,  she  laid  those  two  tiny  hands  on 
his  shoulders." 

he  knew  that  little  boys  usually  had  a  mo- 

S^jjf    ther,  and  had  occasionally  wondered  what 

had  become  of  his  own. 

"No,"  said   the  visitor,  with    a   tender, 
5 


66 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


half-sad  smile,  putting  back  the  hair  from 
his  forehead,  and  looking  right  into  his 
eyes — "  No,  I  am  not  your  mother,  though 
she  was  a  dear  friend  of  mine ;  and  you  are 
as  like  her  as  ever  you  c<*.:  be." 

"Will  you  tell  her  to  come  and  see  me, 
then  ?" 

"  She  can  not;  but  I  dare  say  she  knows 
about  you.  And  she  loves  you  very  much 
— and  so  do  I ;  and  I  want  to  help  you  all  I 
can,  my  poor  little  boy." 

"Why  do  you  call  me  poor?"  asked 
Prince  Dolor,  in  surprise. 

The  little  old  woman  glanced  down  on 
his  legs  and  feet,  which  he  did  not  know 
were  different  from  those  of  other  children, 
and  then  at  his  sweet,  bright  face,  which, 
though  he  knew  not  that  either,  was  ex- 
ceedingly different  from  many  children's 
faces,  which  are  often  so  fretful,  cross,  sul- 
len.    Looking  at  him,  instead  of  sighing, 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


07 


she  smiled.  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  my 
Prince,"  said  she. 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  prince,  and  my  name  is 
Dolor ;  will  you  tell  me  yours,  madam  ?" 

The  little  old  woman  laughed  like  a 
chime  of  silver  hells. 

"  I  have  not  got  a  name — or,  rather,  I 
have  so  many  names  that  I  don't  know 
which  to  choose.  However,  it  was  I  who 
gave  you  yours,  and  you  will  belong  to  me 
all  your  days.     I  am  your  godmother." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  the  little  Prince;  "I 
am  glad  I  belong  to  you,  for  I  like  you 
very  much.  Will  you  come  and  play  with 
me?" 

So  they  sat  down  together  and  played. 
By  and  by  they  began  to  talk. 

"  Are  you  very  dull  here  ?"  asked  the 
little  old  woman. 

"Not  particularly, thank  you, godmother. 
I  have  plenty  to  eat  and  drink,  and  my  les- 


68 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


sons  to  do,  and  my  books  to  read — lots  of 
books." 

"  And  you  want  nothing  ?" 

"Nothing.  Yes  —  perhaps —  If  you 
please,  godmother,  could  you  bring  me  just 
one  more  thing  ?" 

"  What  sort  of  thing  ?" 

"  A  little  boy  to  play  with." 

The  old  woman  looked  very  sad.  "  Just 
the  thing,  alas,  which  I  can  not  give  you. 
My  child,  I  can  not  alter  your  lot  in  any 
way,  but  I  can  help  you  to  bear  it." 

"  Thank  you.  But  why  do  you  talk  of 
bearing  it?     I  have  nothing  to  bear." 

"  My  poor  little  man !"  said  the  old 
woman,  in  the  very  tenderest  tone  of  her 
tender  voice.     "  Kiss  me  !" 

"  What  is  kissing  ?"  asked  the  wondering 
child. 

His  godmother  took  him  in  her  arms  and 
embraced  him  many  times.     By  and  by  he 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


69 


kissed  her  back  again — at  first  awkwardly 
and  shyly,  then  with  all  the  strength  of  his 
warm  little  heart, 

"  You  arc  better  to  cuddle  than  even  my 
white  kitten,  I  think.  Promise  me  that 
you  will  never  go  away." 

"  I  must;  but  I  will  leave  a  present  be- 
hind me — something  as  good  as  myself  to 
amuse  you — something  that  will  take  you 
wherever  you  want  to  go,  and  show  you  all 
that  you  wish  to  see." 

«  What  is  it  ?" 

"  A  traveling-cloak." 

The  Prince's  countenance  fell.  "  I  don't 
want  a  cloak,  for  I  never  go  out.  Some- 
times nurse  hoists  me  onto  the  roof,  and 
carries  me  round  by  the  parapet;  but  that 
is  all.     I  can't  walk,  you  know,  as  she  does." 

"  The  more  reason  why  you  should  ride  ; 
and  besides,  this  travelings  V>ak — " 

"  Hush  ! — she's  coming." 


70 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


There  sounded  outside  the  room  door  a 
heavy  step  and  a  grumpy  voice,  and  a  rattle 
of  plates  and  dishes. 

"  It's  my  nurse,  and  she  is  bringing  my 
dinner ;  but  I  don't  want  dinner  at  all — I 
only  want  you.  Will  her  coming  drive  you 
away,  godmother  ?" 

"  Perhaps ;  but  only  for  a  little  while. 
Never  mind ;  all  the  bolts  and  bars  in  the 
world  couldn't  keep  me  out.  Pd  fly  in  at 
the  window,  or  down  through  the  chimney. 
Only  wish  for  me,  and  I  come." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Prince  Dolor,  but 
almost  in  a  whisper,  for  he  was  very  uneasy 
at  what  might  happen  next.  His  nurse  and 
his  godmother — what  would  they  say  to  one 
another  ?  how  would  they  look  at  one  an- 
other ? — two  such  different  faces  :  one  harsh- 
lined,  sullen,  cross,  and  sad ;  the  other 
sweet  and  bright  and  calm  as  a  summer 
evenino-  before  the  dark  begins. 


The  Little  Lame  Trince. 


71 


When  the  door  was  flung  open,  Prince 
Dolor  shut  his  eyes,  trembling  nil  over; 
opening  them  again,  he  saw  he  need  fear 
nothing — his    lovely    old    godmother    had 


"'  What  a  muddle  your  Royal  Highness  is  sitting  in,' 
said  she,  sharply." 

melted  away  just  like  the  rainbow  out  of 
the  sky,  as  he  had  watched  it  many  a  time. 
Nobody  but  his  nurse  was  in  the  room. 

"  What  a  muddle  your  Royal  Highness 
is  sitting  in,"  said  she,  sharply.     "Such  a 


72 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


heap  of  untidy  books  ;  and  what's  this  rub- 
bish?" knocking  a  little  bundle  that  lay 
beside  them. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  nothing — give  it  me !" 
cried  the  Prince,  and,  darting  after  it,  he 
hid  it  under  his  pinafore,  and  then  pushed 
it  quickly  into  his  pocket.  Rubbish  as  it 
was,  it  was  left  in  the  place  where  she  sat, 
and  might  be  something  belonging  to  her — 
his  dear,  kind  godmother,  whom  already  he 
loved  with  all  his  lonely,  tender,  passionate 
heart. 

It  was,  though  he  did  not  know  this,  his 
wonderful  traveling-cloak. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


73 


CHAPTER  IV. 


And  what  of  the  traveling-cloak  ?  What 
sort  of  cloak  was  it,  and  what  good  did  it  do 
the  Prince  ? 

Stay,  and  I'll  tell  yon  all  abont  it. 

Outside  it  was  the  commonest-looking 
bundle  imaginable — shabby  and  small ;  and 
the  instant  Prince  Dolor  touched  it,  it  grew 
smaller  still,  dwindling  down  till  he  could 
put  it  in  his  trousers  pocket,  like  a  hand- 
kerchief rolled  up  into  a  ball.  He  did  this 
at  once,  for  fear  his  nurse  should  see  it,  and 
kept  it  there  all  day — all  night,  too.  Till 
after  his  next  morning's  lessons  he  had  no 
opportunity  of  examining  his  treasure. 

When  he  did,  it  seemed  no  treasure  at 
all;  but  a  mere  piece  of  cloth — circular  in 
form,  dark  green  in  color — that  is,  if  it  had 


74 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


any  color  at  all,  being  so  worn  and  shabby, 
though  not  dirty.  It  had  a  split  cut  to  the 
centre,  forming  a  round  hole  for  the  neck — 
and  that  was  all  its  shape;  the  shape,  in 
fact,  of  those  cloaks  which  in  South  Amer- 
ica are  called  ponchos — very  simple,  but 
most  graceful  and  convenient. 

Prince  Dolor  had  never  seen  any  thing 
like  it.  In  spite  of  his  disappointment,  he 
examined  it  curiously ;  spread  it  out  on  the 
floor,  then  arranged  it  on  his  shoulders.  It 
felt  very  warm  and  comfortable;  but  it  was  so 
exceedingly  shabby — the  only  shabby  thing 
that  the  Prince  had  ever  seen  in  his  life. 

"  And  what  use  will  it  be  to  me  ?"  said 
he,  sadly.  "  I  have  no  need  of  outdoor 
clothes,  as  I  never  go  out.  Why  was  this 
given  me,  I  wonder  ?  and  what  in  the  world 
am  I  to  do  with  it?  She  must  be  a  rather 
funny  person,  this  dear  godmother  of 
mine." 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


75 


Nevertheless,  because  she  was  his  god- 
mother, and  had  given  him  the  cloak,  he 
folded  it  carefully  and  put  it  away,  poor 
and  shahby  as  it  was,  hiding  it  in  a  safe  eor- 
ner  of  his  toy-cupboard,  which  his  nurse 
never  meddled  with.  lie  did  not  want  her  to 
find  it,  or  to  laugh  at  it  or  at  his  godmother 
— as  he  felt  sure  she  would  if  she  knew  all. 

There  it  lay,  and  by  and  by  he  forgot  all 
about  it;  nay,  I  am  sorr.y  to  say  that,  being 
but  a  child,  and  not  seeing  her  again,  he 
almost  forgot  his  sweet  old  godmother,  or 
thought  of  her  only  as  he  did  of  the  angels 
or  fairies  that  he  read  of  in  his  books,  and 
of  her  visit  as  if  it  had  been  a  mere  dream 
of  the  night. 

There  were  times,  certainly,  when  he  re- 
called her :  of  early  mornings,  like  that 
morning  when  she  appeared  beside  him, 
and  late  evenings,  when  the  gray  twilight 
reminded  him  of  the  color  of  her  hair  and 


76 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


her  pretty  soft  garments  ;  above  all,  when, 
waking  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  with  the 
stars  peering  in  at  his  window,  or  the 
moonlight  shining  across  his  little  bed,  he 
would  not  have  been  surprised  to  see  her 
standing  beside  it,  looking  at  him  with 
those  beautiful  tender  eyes,  which  seemed 
to  have  a  pleasantness  and  comfort  in  them 
different  from  any  thing  he  had  ever 
known. 

But  she  never  came,  and  gradually  she 
slipped  out  of  his  memory — only  a  boy's 
memory,  after  all ;  until  something  hap- 
pened which  made  him  remember  her,  and 
want  her  as  he  had  never  wanted  any  thing 
before. 

Prince  Dolor  fell  ill.  He  caught — his 
nurse  could  not  tell  how — a  complaint  com- 
mon to  the  people  of  Nomansland,  called 
the  doldrums,  as  unpleasant  as  measles  or 
any  other  of  our  complaints ;  and  it  made 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


77 


him  restless,  cross,  and  disagreeable.  Even 
when  a  little  better,  he  was  too  weak  to  en- 
joy any  thing,  but  lay  all  day  long  on  his 
sola,  fidgeting  his  nurse  extremely — while, 
in  her  intense  terror  lest  he  might  die,  she 
fidgeted  him  still  more.  At  last,  seeing  he 
really  was  getting  well,  she  left  him  to  him- 
self— which  he  was  most  glad  of,  in  spite 
of  his  dullness  and  dreariness.  There  he 
lay,  alone,  quite  alone. 

Now  and  then  an  irritable  fit  came  over 
him,  in  which  he  longed  to  get  up  and  do 
something,  or  go  somewhere — would  have 
liked  to  imitate  his  white  kitten — jump 
down  from  the  tower  and  run  away,  taking 
the  chance  of  whatever  might  happen. 

Only  one  thing,  alas!  was  likely  to 
happen;  for  the  kitten,  he  remembered, 
had  four  active  legs,  while  he — 

"  I  wonder  what  my  godmother  meant 
when  she  looked  at  my  legs  and  sighed  so 


78 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


bitterly?  I  wonder  why  I  can't  walk  straight 
and  steady  like  my  nurse — only  I  wouldn't 
like  to  have  her  great,  noisy,  clumping 
shoes.  Still  it  would  be  very  nice  to  move 
about  quickly — perhaps  to  fly,  like  a  bird, 
like  that  string  of  birds  I  saw  the  other  day 
skimming  across  the  sky,  one  after  the 
other." 

These  were  the  passage-birds — the  only 
living  creatures  that  ever  crossed  the  lonely 
plain ;  and  he  had  been  much  interested  in 
them,  wondering  whence  they  came  and 
whither  they  were  going. 

"  How  nice  it  must  be  to  be  a  bird  !  If 
legs  are  no  good,  why  can  not  one  have 
wings  ?  People  have  wings  when  they  die 
— perhaps;  I  wish  I  were  dead,  that  I  do. 
I  am  so  tired,  so  tired;  and  nobody  cares 
for  me.  Nobody  ever  did  care  for  me,  ex- 
cept perhaps  my  godmother.  Godmother, 
dear,  have  you  quite  forsaken  me  ?" 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


79 


lie  stretched  himself  wearily,  gathered 
himself  up,  and  dropped  his  Lead  upon  his 
hands;  as  lie  did  so,  he  felt  somebody  kiss 
him  at  the  hack  of  his  neck,  and,  turning, 
found  that  lie  was  resting,  not  on  the  sofa- 
pillows,  but  on  a  warm  shoulder — that  of 
the  little  old  woman  clothed  in  gray. 

How  glad  he  was  to  see  her !  How  he 
looked  into  her  kind  eyes  and  felt  her  hands, 
to  sec  if  she  were  all  real  and  alive  !  then  put 
both  his  arms  round  her  neck,  and  kissed 
her  as  if  he  would  never  have  done  kissing. 

"  Stop,  stop  !"  cried  she,  pretending  to  be 
smothered.  "  I  see  you  have  not  forgotten 
my  teachings.  Kissing  is  a  good  thing — in 
moderation.  Only  just  let  me  have  breath 
to  speak  one  wrord." 

"A  dozen!"  he  said. 

"  Well,  then,  tell  me  all  that  has  happened 
to  you  since  I  saw  you — or,  rather,  since  you 
saw  me,  which  is  quite  a  different  thing." 


iM 


80 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"  Nothing  has  happened — nothing  ever 
does  happen  to  me,"  answered  the  Prince, 
dolefully. 

"  And  are  you  very  dull,  my  boy  ?" 

"  So  dull  that  I  was  just  thinking  whether 
I  could  not  jump  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
tower,  like  my  white  kitten." 

"  Don't  do  that,  not  being  a  white  kitten." 

"  I  wish  I  were  ! — I  wish  I  wore  any  thing 
but  what  I  am." 

"  And  you  can't  make  yourself  any  differ- 
ent, nor  can  I  do  it  either.  You  must  be 
content  to  stay  just  what  you  are." 

The  little  old  woman  said  this — very 
firmly,  but  gently,  too — with  her  arms  round 
his  neck  and  her  lips  on  his  forehead.  It 
was  the  first  time  the  boy  had  ever  heard 
any  one  talk  like  this,  and  he  looked  up  in 
surprise — but  not  in  pain,  for  her  sweet 
manner  softened  the  hardness  of  her  words. 

'"  Now,  my  Prince — for  you  are  a  prince, 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


81 


and  must  behave  as  such — let  us  see  what 
we  can  do  ;  how  much  I  can  do  for  yon,  or 
show  you  how  to  do  for  yourself.  Where  is 
your  traveling-cloak  ?" 

Prince  Dolor  blushed  extremely.  "  I — I 
put  it  away  in  the  cupboard ;  I  suppose  it  is 
there  still." 

"You  have  never  used  it;  you  dislike 
it?" 

He  hesitated,  not  wishing  to  be  impolite. 
"  Don't  you  think  it's — just  a  little  old  and 
shabby  for  a  prince?" 

The  old  woman  laughed — long  and  loud, 
though  very  sweetly. 

"  Prince,  indeed  !  Why,  if  all  the  princes 
in  the  world  craved  for  it,  they  couldn't  get 
it,  unless  I  gave  it  them.  Old  and  shabby  [ 
It's  the  most  valuable  thing  imaginable ! 
Very  few  ever  have  it;  but  I  thought  I 
would  give  it  to  you,  because — because  you 
are  different  from  other  people." 


82 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"  Am  I  ?"  said  the  Prince,  and  looked 
first  with  curiosity,  then  with  a  sort  of 
anxiety,  into  his  godmother's  face,  which 
was  sad  and  grave,  with  slow  tears  begin- 
ning to  steal  down. 

She  touched  his  poor  little  legs.  "  These 
are  not  like  those  of  other  little  boys." 

"  Indeed  ! — my  nurse  never  told  me  that." 

"Very  likely  not.  But  it  is  time  you 
were  told;  and  I  tell  you,  because  I  love 
you." 

"  Tell  me  what,  dear  godmother?" 

"  That  you  will  never  be  able  to  walk  or 
run  or  jump  or  play — that  your  life  will  be 
quite  different  to  most  people's  lives ;  but  it 
may  be  a  very  happy  life  for  all  that.  Do 
not  be  afraid." 

"I  am  not  afraid,"  said  the  boy;  but  he 
turned  very  pale,  and  his  lips  began  to 
quiver,  though  he  did  not  actually  cry — he 
was  too  old  for  that,  and,  perhaps,  too  proud. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


83 


Though  not  wholly  comprehending,  lie 
began  dimly  to  guess  what  his  godmother 
meant.  He  had  never  seen  any  real  live 
boys,  but  he  had  seen  pictures  of  them  run- 
ning and  jumping;  which  he  had  admired 
and  tried  hard  to  imitate,  but  always  failed. 
Now  he  began  to  understand  why  he  failed, 
and  that  he  always  should  fail — that,  in 
fact,  he  was  not  like  other  little  boys  ;  and 
it  was  of  no  use  his  wishing  to  do  as  they 
did,  and  play  as  they  played,  even  if  he  had 
them  to  play  with.  His  was  a  separate  life, 
in  which  he  must  find  out  new  work  and 
new  pleasures  for  himself. 

The  sense  of  the  inevitable.,  as  grown-up 
people  call  it — that  we  can  not  have  things 
as  we  want  them  to  be,  but  as  they  are,  and 
that  we  must  learn  to  bear  them  and  make 
the  best  of  them — this  lesson,  which  every 
body  has  to  learn  soon  or  late — came,  alas! 
sadly  soon,  to  the    poor    b"oy.     He  fought 


84 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


against  it  for  a  while,  and  then,  quite  over- 
come, turned  and  sobbed  bitterly  in  his 
godmother's  arms. 

She  comforted  him — I  do  not  know  how, 
except  that  love  always  comforts;  and  then 
she  whispered  to  him,  in  her  sweet,  strong, 
cheerful  voice — "Never  mind!" 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  do  mind — that  is,  I 
won't  mind,"  replied  he,  catching  the  courage 
of  her  tone  and  speaking  like  a  man,  though 
he  was  still  such  a  mere  boy. 

"  That  is  right,  my  Prince  ! — that  is  being 
like  a  prince.  Now  we  know  exactly  where 
we  are;  let  us  put  our  shoulders  to  the 
wheel  and — " 

"  We  are  in  Hopeless  Tower"  (this  was 
its  name,  if  it  had  a  name),  "  and  there  is 
no  wheel  to  put  our  shoulders  to,"  said  the 
child,  sadly. 

"  You  little  matter-of-fact  goose  !  Well 
for  you  that  you  have  a  godmother  called — " 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


85 


"  What  ?"  he  eagerly  asked. 

"  Stuft-and-nonsense." 

"  Stuff-and-nonsense  !  What  a  funny 
name !" 

"Some  people  give  it  me,  but  they  are 
not  my  most  intimate  friends.  These  call 
me — never  mind  what,"  added  the  old 
woman,  with  a  soft  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 
"  So  as  you  know  me,  and  know  me  well, 
you  may  give  me  any  name  you  please ;  it 
doesn't  matter.  But  I  am  your  godmother, 
child.  I  have  few  godchildren;  those  I 
have  love  me  dearly,  and  find  me  the  great- 
est blessing  in  all  the  world." 

"I  can  well  believe  it,"  cried  the  little 
lame  Prince,  and  forgot  his  troubles  in  look- 
ing at  her — as  her  figure  dilated,  her  eyes 
grew  lustrous  as  stars,  her  very  raiment 
brightened,  and  the  whole  room  seemed 
filled  with  her  beautiful  and  beneficent 
presence    like   light. 


86 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


He  could  have  looked  at  her  forever 
— half  in  love,  half  in  awe;  but  she  sud- 
denly dwindled  down  into  the  little  old 
woman  all  in  gray,  and,  with  a  malicious 
twinkle  in  her  eyes,  asked  for  the  traveling- 
cloak. 

"  Bring  it  out  of  the  rubbish  cupboard, 
and  shake  the  dust  off  it,  quick!"  said  she 
to  Prince  Dolor,  who  hung  his  head,  rather 
ashamed.  "  Spread  it  out  on  the  floor,  and 
wait  till  the  split  closes  and  the  edges  turn 
up  like  a  rim  all  round.  Then  go  and  open 
the  sky-light — mind,  I  say  open  the  sky-light 
— set  yourself  down  in  the  middle  of  it,  like 
a  frog  on  a  water-lily  leaf;  say  '  Abraca- 
dabra, dum  dum  dum,'  and — see  what  will 
happen !" 

The  Prince  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughing. 
It  all  seemed  so  exceedingly  silly ;  he  won- 
dered that  a  wise  old  woman  like  his  god- 
mother should  talk  such  nonsense. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


H7 


"  Stuff-and-nonsense,  you  mean,"  said  she, 
answering,  to  his  great  alarm,  his  unspoken 
thoughts.  "  Did  I  not  tell  you  some  people 
called  me  by  that  name  ?  Never  mind ;  it 
doesn't  harm  me." 

And  she  laughed — her  merry  laugh — 
as  childlike  as  if  she  were  the  Prince's  age 
instead  of  her  own,  whatever  that  might  be. 
She  certainly  was  a  most  extraordinary  old 
woman. 

"  Believe  me  or  not,  it  doesn't  matter," 
said  she.  "  Here  is  the  cloak  :  when  you 
want  to  go  traveling  on  it,  say  Abracadabra, 
dum  dam  dum  ;  when  you  want  to  come  back 
again,  say  Abracadabra,  turn  turn  ti.  That's 
all;  good-by." 

A  puff  of  pleasant  air  passing  by  him,  and 
making  him  feel  for  the  moment  quite 
strong  and  well,  was  all  the  Prince  was  con- 
scious of.  His  most  extraordinary  god- 
mother was  gone. 


88 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"  Really  now,  how  rosy  your  Royal  High- 
ness's  cheeks  have  grown !  You  seem  to 
have  got  well  already,"  said  the  nurse,  en- 
tering the  room. 

"  I  think  I  have,"  replied  the  Prince,  very 
gently — he  felt  gently  and  kindly  even  to 
his  grim  nurse.  "  And  now  let  me  have 
my  dinner,  and  go  you  to  your  sewing  as 
usual." 

The  instant  she  was  gone,  however,  tak- 
ing with  her  the  plates  and  dishes,  which 
for  the  first  time  since  his  illness  he  had 
satisfactorily  cleared,  Prince  Dolor  sprang 
down  from  his  sofa,  and  with  one  or  two  of 
his  frog-like  jumps,  not  graceful,  but  con- 
venient,  he  reached  the  cupboard  where  he 
kept  his  toys,  and  looked  everywhere  for  his 
traveling-cloak. 

Alas !  it  was  not  there. 

While  he  was  ill  of  the  doldrums,  his 
nurse,  thinking  it  a  good  opportunity  for 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


89 


putting  things  to  rights,  had  made  a  grand 
clearance  of  all  his  "  rubbish  " — as  she  con- 
sidered it:  his  beloved  headless  horses, 
broken  carts,  sheep  without  feet,  and  birds 
without  wings — all  the  treasures  of  his  baby 
days,  Avhich  he  could  not  bear  to  part  with. 
Though  he  seldom  played  with  them  now, 
he  liked  just  to  feel  they  were  there. 

They  were  all  gone  !  and  with  them  the 
traveling-cloak.  He  sat  down  on  the  floor, 
looking  at  the  empty  shelves,  so  beautifully 
clean  and  tidy,  then  burst  out  sobbing  as  if 
his  heart  would  break. 

But  quietly — always  quietly.  He  never 
let  his  nurse  hear  him  cry.  She  only 
laughed  at  him,  as  he  felt  she  would  laugh 
now. 

"  And  it  is  all  my  own  fault,"  he  cried. 
"  I  ought  to  have  taken  better  care  of  my 
godmother's  gift.  Oh,  godmother,  forgive 
me !      I'll   never   be    so   careless  again.     I 


90 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


don't  know  what  the  cloak  is  exactly,  but  I 
am  sure  it  is  something  precious.  Help  me 
to  find  it  again.  Oh,  don't  let  it  be  stolen 
from  me — don't,  please !" 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !"  laughed  a  silvery  voice. 
"  Why,  that  traveling-cloak  is  the  one  thing 
in  the  world  which  nobody  can  steal.  It  is 
of  no  use  to  any  body  except  the  owner. 
Open  your  eyes,  my  Prince,  and  see  what 
you  shall  see." 

His  dear  old  godmother,  he  thought,  and 
turned  eagerly  round.  But  no;  he  only 
beheld,  lying  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  all 
dust  and  cobwebs,  his  precious  traveling- 
cloak. 

Prince  Dolor  darted  toward  it,  tumbling 
several  times  on  the  way,  as  he  often  did 
tumble,  poor  boy !  and  pick  himself  up 
again,  never  complaining.  Snatching  it  to 
his  breast,  he  hugged  and  kissed  it,  cobwebs 
and  all,  as  if  it  had  been  something  alive. 


92 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


CHAPTER  V. 


If  any  reader,  big  or  little,  should  wonder 
whether  there  is  a  meaning  in  this  story 
deeper  than  that  of  an  ordinary  fairy  tale,  I 
will  own  that  there  is.  But  I  have  hidden 
it  so  carefully  that  the  smaller  people,  and 
many  larger  folk,  will  never  find  it  out,  and 
meantime  the  book  may  be  read  straight 
on,  like  "  Cinderella,"  or  "  Blue-Beard,"  or 
"  Hop-o'-my  Thumb,"  for  what  interest  it 
has,  or  what  amusement  it  may  bring. 

Having  said  this,  I  return  to  Prince  Dolor, 
that  little  lame  boy  whom  many  may  think 
so  exceedingly  to  be  pitied.  But  if  you  had 
seen  him  as  he  sat  patiently  untying  his 
wonderful  cloak,  which  was  done  up  in  a 
very  tight  and  perplexing  parcel,  using 
skillfully  his  deft  little  hands,  and  knitting 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


93 


hia  brows  with  firm  determination,  while 
his  eyes  glistened  with  pleasure  and  energy 
and  eager  anticipation — if  you  had  beheld 
him  thus,  you  might  have  changed  your 
opinion. 

When  avc  see  people  suffering  or  unfor- 
tunate, we  feel  very  sorry  for  them ;  but 
when  we  see  them  bravely  bearing  their 
sufferings,  and  making  the  best  of  their  mis- 
fortunes, it  is  quite  a  different  feeling.  "We 
respect,  we  admire  them.  One  can  respect 
and  admire  even  a  little  child. 

When  Prince  Dolor  had  patiently  untied 
all  the  knots,  a  remarkable  thing  happened. 
The  cloak  began  to  undo  itself.  Slowly  un- 
folding, it  laid  itself  down  on  the  carpet,  as 
flat  as  if  it  had  been  ironed ;  the  split  joined 
with  a  little  sharp  crick-crack,  and  the  rim 
turned  up  all  round  till  it  was  breast-high  ; 
for  meantime  the  cloak  had  grown  and 
grown,  and  become  quite  large  enough  for 


94 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


one  person  to  sit  in  it  as  comfortable  as  if 
in  a  boat. 

The  Prince  watched  it  rather  anxiously; 
it  was  such  an  extraordinary,  not  to  say  a 
frightening  thing.  However,  he  was  no 
coward,  but  a  thorough  boy,  who,  if  he  had 
been  like  other  boys,  would  doubtless  have 
grown  up  daring  and  adventurous — a  sol- 
dier, a  sailor,  or  the  like.  As  it  was,  he 
could  only  show  his  courage  morally,  not 
physically,  by  being  afraid  of  nothing,  and 
by  doing  boldly  all  that  it  was  in  his  narrow 
powers  to  do.  And  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
in  this  way  he  showed  more  real  valor  than 
if  he  had  had  six  pairs  of  proper  legs. 

He  said  to  himself,  "  What  a  goose  I 
am !  As  if  my  dear  godmother  would  ever 
have  given  me  anything  to  hurt  me.  Here 
goes!" 

So,  with  one  of  his  active  leaps,  he  sprang 
right  into  the  middle  of  the  cloak,  where  he 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


0" 


squatted  down,  wrapping  his  arms  tight 
round  his  knees,  for  they  shook  a  little  and 

his  heart  heat  fast.  But  there  he  sat,  steady 
and  silent,  waiting  for  what  might  happen 
next. 

Nothing  did  happen,  and  he  began  to 
think  nothing  would,  and  to  feel  rather  dis- 
appointed, when  he  recollected  the  words 
he  had  been  told  to  repeat — "  Abracadabra, 
dum  dum  dum  !" 

He  repeated  them,  laughing  all  the  while, 
they  seemed  such  nonsense.  And  then — 
and  then — 

Now  I  don't  expect  any  body  to  believe 
what  I  am  going  to  relate,  though  a  good 
many  wise  people  have  believed  a  good 
many  sillier  things.  And  as  seeing's  believ- 
ing, and  I  never  saw  it,  I  can  not  be  ex- 
pected implicitly  to  believe  it  myself,  except 
in  a  sort  of  a  way;  and  yet  there  is  truth  in 
it — for  some  people. 


96 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


The  cloak  rose,  slowly  and  steadily,  at 
first  only  a  few  inches,  then  gradually  higher 
and  higher,  till  it  nearly  touched  the  sky- 
light. Prince  Dolor's  head  actually  bumped 
against  the  glass,  or  would  have  done  so 
had  he  not  crouched  down,  crying,  "Oh, 
please  don't  hurt  me!"  in  a  most  melancholy 
voice. 

Then  he  suddenly  remembered  his  god- 
mother's express  command — "  Open  the  sky- 
light!" 

Regaining  his  courage  at  once,  without  a 
moment's  delay  he  lifted  up  his  head  and 
began  searching  for  the  bolt — the  cloak 
meanwhile  remaining  perfectly  still,  bal- 
anced in  the  air.  But  the  minute  the  win- 
dow was  opened,  out  it  sailed — right  out  into 
the  clear,  fresh  air,  with  nothing  between 
it  and  the  cloudless  blue. 

Prince  Dolor  had  never  felt  any  such 
delicious    sensation   before.     I  can    under- 


"  The  cloak  rose  slowly  and  steadily." 


(97) 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


99 


0 


stand  it.  Can  not  yon  ?  Did  you  never 
think,  in  watching  the  rooks  going  home 
singly  or  in  pairs,  oaring  their  way  across 
the  calm  evening  sky  till  they  vanish  like 
black  dots  in  the  misty  gray,  how  pleasant 
it  must  feel  to  be  up  there,  quite  out  of  the 
noise  and  din  of  the  world,  able  to  hear  and 
see  every  thing  down  below,  yet  troubled 
by  nothing  and  teased  by  no  one — all  alone, 
bur  perfectly  content  ? 

Something  like  this  was  the  happiness  of 
the  little  lame  Trince  when  he  got  out  of 
Hopeless  Tower,  and  found  himself  for  the 
first  time  in  the  pure  open  air,  with  the  sky 
above  him  and  the  earth  below. 

True,  there  was  nothing  but  earth  and 
sky;  no  houses,  no  trees,  no  rivers,  moun- 
tains, seas — not  a  beast  on  the  ground,  or  a 
bird  in  the  air.  But  to  him  even  the  level 
plain  looked  beautiful ;  and  then  there  was 
the  glorious  arch   of  the  sky,  with  a  little 


100 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


young  moon  sitting  in  the  west  like  a  baby 
queen.  And  the  evening  breeze  was  so 
sweet  and  fresh — it  kissed  him  like  his  god- 
mother's kisses ;  and  by  and  by  a  few  stars 
came  out — first  two  or  three,  and  then  quan- 
tities— quantities !  so  that  when  he  began 
to  count  them  he  was  utterly  bewildered. 

By  this  time,  however,  the  cool  breeze 
had  become  cold;  the  mist  gathered;  and 
as  he  had,  as  he  said,  no  outdoor  clothes, 
poor  Prince  Dolor  was  not  very  comfortable. 
The  dews  fell  damp  on  his  curls — he  began 
to  shiver. 

"  Perhaps  I  had  better  go  home,"  thought 
he. 

But  how  ?  For  in  his  excitement  the 
other  words  which  his  godmother  had  told 
him  to  use  had  slipped  his  memory.  They 
were  only  a  little  different  from  the  first, 
but  in  that  slight  difference  all  the  impor- 
tance lay.     As  he  repeated  his  "  Abraca- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


101 


dabra,"  trying  ever  so  many  other  syllables 
after  it,  the  cloak  only  went  faster  and  faster, 
skimming  on  through  the  dusky,  empty  air. 

The  poor  little  Prince  began  to  feel 
frightened.  "What  if  this  wonderful  travel- 
ing-cloak should  keep  on  thus  traveling, 
perhaps  to  the  world's  end,  carrying  with  it 
a  poor,  tired,  hungry  boy,  who,  after  all, 
was  beginning  to  think  there  was  something 
very  pleasant  in  supper  and  bed  ? 

"  Dear  godmother,"  he  cried  pitifully, 
"do  help  me  !  Tell  me  just  this  once  and 
I'll  never  forget  again." 

Instantly  the  words  came  rushing  into 
his  head — "Abracadabra,  turn  turn  ti!" 
"Was  that  it  ?  Ah  !  yes — for  the  cloak  be- 
gan to  turn  slowly.  He  repeated  the  charm 
again,  more  distinctly  and  firmly,  when  it 
gave  a  gentle  dip,  like  a  nod  of  satisfaction, 
and  immediately  started  back,  as  fast  as 
ever,  in  the  direction  of  the  tower. 


102 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


He  reached  the  sky-light,  which  he  found 
exactly  as  he  had  left  it,  and  slipped  in, 
cloak  and  all,  as  easily  as  he  had  got  out. 
He  had  scarcely  reached  the  floor,  and 
was  still  sitting  in  the  middle  of  his  travel- 
ing-cloak— like  a  frog  on  a  water-lily  leaf,  as 
his  godmother  had  expressed  it — when  he 
heard  his  nurse's  voice  outside. 

"  Bless  us !  what  has  become  of  your 
Royal  Highness  all  this  time  ?  To  sit  stu- 
pidly here  at  the  window  till  it  is  quite 
dark,  and  leave  the  sky-light  open,  too. 
Prince !  what  can  you  be  thinking  of? 
You  are  the  silliest  boy  I  ever  knew." 

"  Am  I  ?"  said  he,  absently,  and  never 
heeding  her  crossness ;  for  his  only  anxiety 
was  lest  she  might  find  out  any  thing. 

She  would  have  been  a  very  clev  per- 
son to  have  done  so.  The  instant  Prince 
Dolor  got  ofi"  it,  the  cloak  folded  itself  up 
into  the  tiniest  possible  parcel,  tied  all  its 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


103 


own  knots,  and  rolled  itself  of  its  own  ac- 
cord into  the  farthest  and  darkest  corner  of 
the  room.  If  the  nurse  had  seen  it,  which 
she  didn't,  she  would  have  taken  it  for  a 
mere  bundle  of  rubbish  not  worth  noticing. 

Shutting  the  sky-light  with  an  angry 
bang,  she  brought  in  the  supper  and  lit  the 
candles  with  her  usual  unhappy  expression 
of  countenance.  But  Prince  Dolor  hardly 
saw  it ;  he  only  saw,  hid  in  the  corner  where 
nobody  else  could  see  it,  his  wonderful 
traveling-cloak.  And  though  his  supper 
was  not  particularly  nice,  he  ate  it  heartily, 
scarcely  hearing  a  word  of  his  nurse's 
grumbling,  which  to-night  seemed  to  have 
taken  the  place  of  her  sullen  silence. 

"  Poor  woman !"  he  thought,  when  he 
paused  a  minute  to  listen  and  look  at  her 
with  those  quiet,  happy  eyes,  so  like  his 
mother's.  "  Poor  woman !  she  hasn't  got  a 
traveling-cloak!" 


104 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


And  when  he  was  left  alone  at  last,  and 
crept  into  his  little  bed,  where  he  lay  awake 
a  good  while,  watching  what  he  called  his 
"  sky-garden,"  all  planted  with  stars,  like 
flowers,  his  chief  thought  was—"  I  must 
be  up  very  early  to-morrow  morning,  and 
get  my  lessons  done,  and  then  I'll  go 
traveling  all  over  the  world  on  my  beautiful 
cloak." 

So  next  day  he  opened  his  eyes  with  the 
sun,  and  went  with  a  good  heart  to  his  les- 
sons. They  had  hitherto  been  the  chief 
amusement  of  his  dull  life;  now,  I  am 
afraid,  he  found  them  also  a  little  dull. 
But  he  tried  to  be  good — I  don't  say  Prince 
Dolor  always  was  good,  but  he  generally 
tried  to  be — and  when  his  mind  went  wan- 
dering after  the  dark,  dusty  corner  where 
lay  his  precious  treasure  he  resolutely  called 
it  back  again. 

"  For,"  he  said,  "  how  ashamed  my  god- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


105 


mother  would  be  of  me  if  I  grew  up  a  stupid 
boy." 

But  the  instant  lessons  were  done,  and 
he  was  alone  in  the  empty  room,  he  crept 
across  the  floor,  undid  the  shabby  little 
bundle,  his  fingers  trembling  with  eager- 
ness, climbed  on  the  chair,  and  thence  to 
the  table,  so  as  to  unbar  the  sky-light — he 
forgot  nothing  now — said  his  magic  charm, 
and  was  away  out  of  the  window,  as  chil- 
dren say,  "  in  a  few  minutes  les£  than  no 
time." 

Nobody  missed  him.  He  was  accustomed 
to  sit  so  quietly  always  that  his  nurse,  though 
only  in  the  next  room,  perceived  no  differ- 
ence. And  besides,  she  might  have  gone 
in  and  out  a  dozen  times,  and  it  would  have 
been  just  the  same ;  she  never  could  have 
found  out  his  absence. 

For  what  do  you  think  the  clever  god- 
mother did  ?     She  took  a  quantity  of  moon- 


106 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


shine,  or  some  equally  convenient  material, 
and  made  an  image,  which  she  set  on  the 
window-sill  reading,  or  by  the  table  draw- 
ing:, where  it  looked  so  like  Prince  Dolor 
that  any  common  observer  would  never 
have  guessed  the  deception ;  and  even  the 
boy  would  have  been  puzzled  to  know 
which  was  the  image  and  which  was  him- 
self. 

And  all  this  while  the  happy  little  fellow 
was  away,  floating  in  the  air  on  his  magic 
cloak,  and  seeing  all  sorts  of  wonderful 
things — or  they  seemed  wonderful  to  him, 
who  had  hitherto  seen  nothing  at  all. 

First,  there  were  the  flowers  that  grew 
on  the  plain,  which,  whenever  the  cloak 
came  near  enough,  he  strained  his  eyes  to 
look  at;  they  were  very  tiny,  but  very  beau- 
tiful— white  saxifrage,  and  yellow  lotus, 
and  ground-thistles,  purple  and  bright,  with 
many  others  the   names  of  which  I  do  not 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


107 


know.  No  more  did  Prince  Dolor,  though 
he  tried  to  find  them  out  by  recalling  any 
pictures  he  had  seen  of  them.  But  he  was 
too  far  oil";  and  though  it  was  pleasant 
enough  to  admire  them  as  brilliant  patches 
of  color, still  he  would  have  liked  to  examine 
them  all.  lie  was,  as  a  little  girl  I  know  once 
said  of  a  playfellow,  "  a  very  examining  hoy." 

"  I  wonder,"  he  thought,  "  whether  I 
could  see  better  through  a  pair  of  glasses 
like  those  my  nurse  reads  with,  and  takes 
such  care  of.  How  I  would  take  care  of 
them,  too,  if  I  only  had  a  pair!" 

Immediately  he  felt  something  queer  and 
hard  fixing  itself  to  the  bridge  of  his  nose. 
It  was  a  pair  of  the  prettiest  gold  spectacles 
ever  seen;  and  looking  downward,  he 
found  that,  though  ever  so  high  above  the 
ground,  he  could  see  every  minute  blade  of 
grass,  every  tiny  bud  and  flower — nay,  even 
the  insects  that  walked  over  them. 


Is  >'f 


108 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"  Thank  you,  thank  you !"  he  cried,  in  a 
gush  of  gratitude — to  any  body  or  every 
body,  but  especially  to  his  dear  godmother, 
whom  he  felt  sure  had  given  him  this  new 
present.  He  amused  himself  with  it  for 
ever  so  long,  with  his  chin  pressed  on  the 
rim  of  the  cloak,  gazing  down  upon  the 
grass,  every  square  foot  of  which  was  a  mine 
of  wonders. 

Then,  just  to  rest  his  eyes,  he  turned 
them  up  to  the  sky — the  blue,  bright,  empty 
sky,  which  he  had  looked  at  so  often  and 
seen  nothing. 

Now  surely  there  was  something.  A 
long,  black,  wavy  line,  moving  on  in  the 
distance,  not  by  chance,  as  the  clouds  move 
apparently,  but  deliberately,  as  if  it  were 
alive.  He  might  have  seen  it  before — he 
almost  thought  he  had;  but  then  he  could 
not  tell  what  it  was.  Looking  at  it  through 
his  spectacles,  he  discovered  that  it  really 


<!&?<£ 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


109 


was  alive ;  being  a  long  string  of  birds,  fly- 
ing one  after  the  other,  their  winirs  moving 
steadily  and  their  heads  pointed  in  one  di- 


"He  felt  something  queer  and  hard  fixing  itself  to  the 
bridge  of  his  nose." 

rection,  as  steadily  as  if  each  were  a  little 

ship,  guided  invisibly  by  an  unerring  helm. 

"  They  must  be  the  passage-birds  flying 

seaward!"  cried  the  boy,  who  had  read  a 


110 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


little  about  them,  and  had  a  great  talent  for 
putting  two  and  two  together  and  finding 
out  all  he  could.  "  Oh,  how  I  should  like 
to  see  them  quite  close,  and  to  know  where 
they  come  from,  and  whither  they  are  going! 
How  I  wish  I  knew  every  thing  in  all  the 
world!" 

A  silly  speech  for  even  an  "  examining  " 
little  boy  to  make;  because,  as  we  grow 
older,  the  more  we  know  the  more  we  find 
out  there  is  to  know.  And  Prince  Dolor 
blushed  when  he  had  said  it,  and  hoped 
nobody  had  heard  him. 

Apparently  somebody  had,  however;  for 
the  cloak  gave  a  sudden  bound  forward,  and 
presently  he  found  himself  high  up  in  air, 
in  the  very  middle  of  that  band  of  aerial 
travelers,  who  had  no  magic  cloak  to  travel 
on — nothing  except  their  wings.  Yet  there 
they  were,  making  their  fearless  way  through 
the  sky. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Ill 


Prince  Dolor  looked  at  them,  as  one  after 
the  other  they  glided  past  him;  and  they 
looked  at  him — those  pretty  swallows,  with 
their  changing  necks  and  bright  eyes — as 
if  wondering  to  meet  in  mid-air  such  an 
extraordinary  sort  of  bird. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  were  going  with  you,  yon 
lovely  creatures !"  cried  the  boy.  "  I'm 
getting  so  tired  of  tins  dull  plain,  and  the 
dreary  and  lonely  tower.  I  do  so  want  to 
see  the  world  !  Pretty  swallows,  dear  swal- 
lows !  tell  me  what  it  looks  like — the  beauti- 
ful, wonderful  world!" 

But  the  swallows  flew  past  him — steadily, 
slowly,  pursuing  their  course  as  if  inside 
each  little  head  had  been  a  mariner's  com- 
pass, to  guide  them  safe  over  land  and  sea, 
direct  to  the  place  where  they  desired  to  go. 

The  boy  looked  after  them  with  envy. 
For  a  long  time  he  followed  with  his  eyes 
the  faint,  wavy,  black  line  as  it  floated  away, 


112 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


sometimes  changing  its  curves  a  little,  but 
never  deviating  from  its  settled  course,  till 
it  vanished  entirely  out  of  sight. 

Then  he  settled  himself  down  in  the 
centre  of  the  cloak,  feeling  quite  sad  and 
lonely. 

"I  think  I'll  go  home,"  said  he,  and 
repeated  his  "Abracadabra,  turn  turn  ti!" 
with  a  rather  heavy  heart.  The  more  he 
had,  the  more  he  wanted;  and  it  is  not 
always  one  can  have  every  thing  one  wants 
— at  least,  at  the  exact  minute  one  craves 
for  it;  not  even  though  one  is  a  prince,  and 
has  a  powerful  and  beneficent  godmother. 

He  did  not  like  to  vex  her  by  calling  for 
her  and  telling  her  how  unhappy  he  was, 
in  spite  of  all  her  goodness ;  so  he  just  kept 
his  trouble  to  himself,,  went  back  to  his 
lonely  tower,  and  spent  three  days  in  silent 
melancholy,  without  even  attempting  another 
journey  on  his  traveling-cloak. 


"A'ty 


V\ 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


113 


CHAPTER   VI. 


The  fourth  day  it  happened  that  the  deaf- 
mute  paid  his  accustomed  visit,  after  which 
Prince  Dolor's  spirits  rose.  They  always 
did  when  he  got  the  new  books  which,  just  to 
relieve  his  conscience,  the  King  of  No  man  s- 
land  regularly  sent  to  his  nephew;  with 
many  new  toys  also,  though  the  latter  were 
disregarded  now. 

"  Toys,  indeed  !  when  I'm  a  big  boy," 
said  the  Prince,  with  disdain,  and  would 
scarcely  condescend  to  mount  a  rocking- 
horse  which  had  come,  somehow  or  other — 
I  can't  be  expected  to  explain  things  very 
exactly — packed  on  the  back  of  the  other, 
the  great  black  horse,  which  stood  and  fed 
contentedly  at  the  bottom  of  the  tower. 

Prince    Dolor   leaned    over    and    looked 

8 


114 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


at  it,  and  thought  how  grand  it  must  be  to 
get  upon  its  back — this  grand  live  steed — 
and  ride  away,  like  the  pictures  of  knights. 

"  Suppose  I  was  a  knight,"  he  said  to 
himself;  "  then  I  should  be  obliged  to  ride 
out  and  see  the  world." 

But  he  kept  all  these  thoughts  to  him- 
self, and  just  sat  still,  devouring  his  new 
books  till  he  had  come  to  the  end  of  them 
all.  It  was  a  repast  not  unlike  the  Barme- 
cide's feast  which  you  read  of  in  the  "  Ara- 
bian Nights,"  which  consisted  of  very  elegant 
but  empty  dishes,  or  that  supper  of  Sancho 
Panza  in  "  Don  Quixote,"  where,  the  minute 
the  smoking  dishes  came  on  the  table,  the 
physician  waved  his  hand  and  they  were  all 
taken  away. 

Thus  almost  all  the  ordinary  delights  of 
boy-life  had  been  taken  away  from,  or  rather 
never  given  to,  this  poor  little  Prince. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  would  sometimes  think — 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


11! 


"I  wonder  what  it  feels  like  to  l»e  on  the 
hack  of  a  horse,  galloping  away,  or  holding 
the  reins   in  a  carriage,  and  tearing  across 
^T    the  country,  or  jumping  a  ditch,  or  running 


/>/'!. 


vt,; 


"r*  ' 


$]    "A  rocking-horse  had  come,  packed  on  the  hack  of  the 
other." 

a  race,  such  as  I  read  of  or  see  in  pictures. 
?%.   What  a  lot  of  things  there  are  that  I  should 

like  to   do !     But  first  I  should  like  to  go 
fhi  and  see  the  world.     I'll  try." 

Apparently  it  was  his  godmother's  plan 


116 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


always  to  let  him  try,  and  try  hard,  before 
lie  gained  any  thing.  This  day  the  knots 
that  tied  up  his  traveling-cloak  were  more 
than  usually  troublesome,  and  he  was  a  full 
half-hour  before  he  got  out  into  the  open 
air,  and  found  himself  floating  merrily  over 
the  top  of  the  tower. 

Hitherto,  in  all  his  journeys,  he  had  never 
let  himself  go  out  of  sight  of  home,  for 
the  dreary  building,  after  all,  was  home 
— he  remembered  no  other;  but  now  he 
felt  sick  of  the  very  look  of  his  tower, 
with  its  round  smooth  walls  and  level 
battlements. 

"  Off  we  go !"  cried  he,  when  the  cloak 
stirred  itself  with  a  slight,  slow  motion,  as 
if  waiting  his  orders.  "  Any  where — any 
where,  so  that  I  am  away  from  here,  and 
out  into  the  world." 

As  he  spoke,  the  cloak,  as  if  seized  sud- 
denly with  a  new  idea,  bounded  forward 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


117 


and  went  skimming  through  the  air,  faster 
than  the  very  fastest  railway  train. 

"  Gee-up,  gee-up  !"  cried  Prince  Dolor,  in 
great  excitement.  "  This  is  us  good  as 
riding  a  race." 

And  he  patted  the  cloak  as  if  it  had  been 
a  horse — that  is,  in  the  way  he  supposed 
horses  ought  to  be  patted — and  tossed  his 
head  hack  to  meet  the  fresh  breeze,  and 
pulled  his  coat-collar  up  and  his  hat  down, 
as  he  felt  the  wind  grow  keener  and  colder 
— colder  than  any  thing  he  had  ever 
known. 

"  What  does  it  matter  though  ?"  said  he. 
"  I'm  a  boy,  and  boys  ought  not  to  mind 
any  thing." 

Still,  for  all  his  good-will,  by  and  by  he 
began  to  shiver  exceedingly;  also,  he  had 
come  away  without  his  dinner,  and  he  grew 
frightfully  hungry.  And  to  add  to  every 
thing,  the  sunshiny  day  changed  into  rain, 


118 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


and  being  high  up,  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
clouds,  he  got  soaked  through  and  through 
in  a  very  few  minutes. 

"  Shall  I  turn  back  ?"  meditated  he. 
"  Suppose  I  say  '-Abracadabra  ?'  " 

Here  he  stopped,  for  already  the  cloak 
gave  an  obedient  lurch,  as  if  it  were  expect- 
ing to  be  sent  home  immediately. 

"  No — I  can't — I  can't  go  back  !  I  must 
go  forward  and  see  the  world !  But  oh  !  if 
I  had  but  the  shabbiest  old  rug  to  shelter 
me  from  the  rain,  or  the  driest  morsel  of 
bread  and  cheese,  just  to  keep  me  from 
starving  !  Still,  I  don't  much  mind ;  I'm  a 
prince,  and  ought  to  be  able  to  stand  any 
thing.  Hold  on,  cloak,  we'll  make  the  best 
of  it." 

It  was  a  most  curious  circumstance,  but 
no  sooner  had  he  said  this  than  he  felt  steal- 
ing over  his  knees  something  warm  and 
soft;    in   fact,    a   most  beautiful   bearskin, 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


119 


which  folded  itself  round  him  quite  natu- 
rally, and  cuddled  him  up  as  closely  as  if 
he  had  been  the  cub  of  the  kind  old  mother- 
bear  that  once  owned  it.  Then  feeling  in 
his  pocket,  which  suddenly  stuck  out  in  a 
marvelous  way,  he  found,  not  exactly  bread 
and  cheese,  nor  even  sandwiches,  but  a 
packet  of  the  most  delicious  food  he  had 
ever  tasted.  It  was  not  meat,  nor  pudding, 
but  a  combination  of  both,  and  it  served 
him  excellently  for  both.  He  ate  his  din- 
ner with  the  greatest  gusto  imaginable,  till 
he  grew  so  thirsty  he  did  not  know  what  to 
do. 

"  Couldn't  I  have  just  one  drop  of  water, 
if  it  didn't  trouble  you  too  much,  kindest 
of  godmothers?" 

For  he  really  thought  this  want  was  be- 
yond her  power  to  supply.  All  the  water 
which  supplied  Hopeless  Tower  was  pumped 
up  with  difficulty  from  a  deep  artesian  well 


120 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


— there  were  such  things  known  in  ISTo- 
mansland — which  had  been  made  at  the  foot 
of  it.  But  around,  for  miles  upon  miles, 
the  desolate  plain  was  perfectly  dry.  And 
above  it,  high  in  air,  how  could  he  expect 
to  find  a  well,  or  to  get  even  a  drop  of 
water  ? 

lie  forgot  one  thing — the  rain.  While  he 
spoke,  it  came  on  in  another  wild  burst,  as 
if  the  clouds  had  poured  themselves  out  in  a 
passion  of  crying,  wetting  him  certainly, 
but  leaving  behind,  in  a  large  glass  vessel 
which  he  had  never  noticed  before,  enough 
water  to  quench  the  thirst  of  two  or  three 
boys  at  least.  And  it  was  so  fresh,  so  pure 
— as  water  from  the  clouds  always  is  when 
it  does  not  catch  the  Soot  from  city  chim- 
neys and  other  defilements — that  he  drank 
it,  every  drop,  with  the  greatest  delight  and 
content. 

Also,  as  soon  as  it  was  empty  the  rain 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


121 


filled  it  again,  bo  that  he  was  able  to  wash 
his  face  and  hands  and  refresh  himself  ex- 
ceedingly. Then  the  sun  came  out  and 
dried  him  in  no  time.  After  that  he  curled 
himself  up  under  the  bearskin  rug,  and 
though  he  determined  to  he  the  most  wide- 
awake hoy  imaginable,  being  so  exceed- 
ingly snug  and  warm  and  comfortable, 
Prince  Dolor  condescended  to  shut  his 
eyes,  just  for  one  minute.  The  next  min- 
ute he  was  sound  asleep. 

"When  he  awoke,  he  found  himself  fioat- 
ing  over  a  country  quite  unlike  any  thing 
he  had  ever  seen  before. 

Yet  it  was  nothing  but  what  most  of  you 
children  see  every  day  and  never  notice  it 
— a  pretty  country  landscape,  like  England, 
Scotland,  France,  or  any  other  land  you 
choose  to  name.  It  had  no  particular  feat- 
ures — nothing  in  it  grand  or  lovely — was 
simply  pretty,  nothing  more ;  yet  to  Prince 


122 


The  Little  Lame  Prince 


Dolor,  who  had  never  gone  beyond  his 
lonely  tower  and  level  plain,  it  appeared  the 
most  charming  sight  imaginable. 

First,  there  was  a  river.  It  came  tumbling 
down  the  hill-side,  frothing  and  foaming, 
playing  at  hide-and-seek  among  the  rocks, 
then  bursting  out  in  noisy  fun  like  a  child, 
to  bury  itself  in  deep,  still  pools.  After- 
ward it  went  steadily  on  for  a  while,  like  a 
good  grown-up  person,  till  it  came  to  an- 
other big  rock,  where  it  misbehaved  itself 
extremely.  It  turned  into  a  cataract,  and 
went  tumbling  over  and  over,  after  a  fash- 
ion that  made  the  Prince — who  had  never 
seen  water  before,  except  in  his  bath  or  his 
drinking-cup — clap  his  hands  with  delight. 

"  It  is  so  active,  so  alive  !  I  like  things 
active  and  alive  !"  cried  he,  and  watched  it 
shimmering  and  dancing,  whirling  and  leap- 
ing, till,  after  a  few  windings  and  vagaries, 
it  settled  into  a  respectable  stream.     After 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


123 


that  it  went  along,  deep  and  quiet ,but  flowing 
steadily  on,  till  it  reached  a  large  lake,  into 
which  it  slipped,  and  so  ended  its  course. 

All  this  the  boy  saw,  either  with  his  own 
naked  eye  or  through  his  gold  spectacles. 
lie  saw  also,  as  in  a  picture,  beautiful  but 
silent,  many  other  things  which  struck  him 
with  wonder,  especially  a  grove  of  trees. 

Only  think,  to  have  lived  to  his  age 
(which  he  himself  did  not  know,  as  he  did 
not  know  his  own  birthday)  and  never  to 
have  seen  trees  !  As  he  floated  over  these 
oaks,  they  seemed  to  him — trunk,  branches, 
and  leaves — the  most  curious  sight  imagin- 
able. 

"  If  I  could  only  get  nearer,  so  as  to 
touch  them,"  said  he,  and  immediately  the 
obedient  cloak  ducked  down ;  Prince  Dolor 
made  a  snatch  at  the  topmost  twig  of  the 
tallest  tree,  and  caught  a  bunch  of  leaves  in 
his  hand. 


124 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Just  a  bunch  of  green  leaves — such  as  we 
see  in  myriads ;  watching  them  bud,  grow, 
fall,  and  then  kicking  them  along  on  the 
ground  as  if  they  were  worth  nothing. 
Yet,  how  wonderful  they  are — every  one 
of  them  a  little  different.  I  don't  suppose 
you  could  ever  find  two  leaves  exactly  alike 
in  form,  color,  and  size — no  more  than 
you  could  find  two  faces  alike,  or  two  char- 
acters exactly  the  same.  The  plan  of  this 
world  is  infinite  similarity  and  yet  infinite 
variety. 

Prince  Dolor  examined  his  leaves  with 
the  greatest  curiosity — and  also  a  little 
caterpillar  that  he  found  walking  over  one 
of  them.  He  coaxed  it  to  take  an  additional 
walk  over  his  finger,  which  it  did  with  the 
greatest  dignity  and  decorum,  as  if  it,  Mr. 
Caterpillar,  were  the  most  important  indi- 
vidual in  existence.  It  amused  him  for  a 
long  time ;  and  when  a  sudden  gust  of  wind 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


125 


blew  it  overboard,  leaves  and   all,  be  felt 
quite  disconsolate. 

"  Still  there  must  be  many  live  creatures 
in  the  world  besides  caterpillars.  I  should 
like  to  see  a  few  of  them." 


"  Prince  Dolor  made  a  snatch  at  the  topmost  twig  of  the 
tallest  tree." 

The  cloak  gave  a  little  dip  down,  as  if  to 
say  "  All  right,  my  Prince,"  and  bore  him 
across  the  oak  forest  to  a  long  fertile  valley 
— called  in  Scotland  a  strath,  and  in  Eng- 


126 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


land  a  weald,  but  what  they  call  it  in  the 
tongue  of  Nomansland  I  do  not  know.  It 
was  made  up  of  corn-fields,  pasture-fields, 
lanes,  hedges,  brooks,  and  ponds.  Also, 
in  it  were  what  the  Prince  desired  to  see — 
a  quantity  of  living  creatures,  wild  and 
tame.  Cows  and  horses,  lambs  and  sheep, 
fed  in  the  meadows ;  pigs  and  fowls  walked 
about  the  farm-yards;  and,  in  lonelier 
places,  hares  scudded,  rabbits  burrowed,  and 
pheasants  and  partridges,  with  many  other 
smaller  birds,  inhabited  the  fields  and  woods. 

Through  his  wonderful  spectacles  the 
Prince  could  see  every  thing ;  but,  as  I  said, 
it  was  a  silent  picture ;  he  was  too  high  up 
to  catch  any  thing  except  a  faint  murmur, 
which  only  aroused  his  anxiety  to  hear 
more. 

"  I  have  as  good  as  two  pair  of  eyes," 
he  thought.  "  I  wonder  if  my  godmother 
would  give  me  a  second  pair  of  ears." 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


127 


Scarcely  had  he  spoken  than  he  found 
lying  on  his  lap  the  most  curious  little  par- 
cel, all  done  up  in  silvery  paper.  And  it 
contained — what  do  you  think  ?  Actually 
a  pair  of  silver  ears,  which,  when  he  tried 
them  on,  fitted  so  exactly  over  his  own  that 
he  hardly  felt  them,  except  for  the  differ- 
ence they  made  in  his  hearing. 

There  is  something  which  we  listen  to 
daily  and  never  notice.  I  mean  the  sounds 
of  the  visible  world,  animate  and  inanimate. 
Winds  blowing,  waters  flowing,  trees  stir- 
ring, insects  whirring  (dear  me  !  I  am  quite 
unconsciously  writing  rhyme),  with  the  va- 
rious cries  of  birds  and  beasts — lowing  cat- 
tle, bleating  sheep,  grunting  pigs,  and  cack- 
ling hens — all  the  infinite  discords  that 
somehow  or  other  make  a  beautiful  har- 
mony. 

We  hear  this,  and  are  so  accustomed  to  it 
that  we  think  nothing  of  it;    but  Prince 


128 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Dolor,  who  had  lived  all  his  days  in  the 
dead  silence  of  Hopeless  Tower,  heard  it  for 
the  first  time.  And  oh  !  if  you  had  seen  his 
face. 

He  listened,  listened,  as  if  he  could  never 
have  done  listening.  And  he  looked  and 
looked,  as  if  he  could  not  gaze  enough. 
Above  all,  the  motion  of  the  animals  de- 
lighted him ;  cows  walking,  horses  gallop- 
ing, little  lambs  and  calves  running  races 
across  the  meadows,  were  such  a  treat  for 
him  to  watch — he  that  was  always  so  quiet. 
But,  these  creatures  having  four  legs,  and 
he  only  two,  the  difference  did  not  strike 
him  painfully. 

Still,  by  and  by,  after  the  fashion  of  chil- 
dren— and,  I  fear,  of  many  big  people  too — 
he  began  to  want  something  more  than  he 
had,  something  that  would  be  quite  fresh 
and  new. 

"  Godmother,"  he  said,  having  now  begun 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


129 


to  believe  that,  whether  he  saw  her  or  not, 
he  could  always  speak  to  her  with  full  con- 
fidence that  she  would  hear  him — "  God- 
mother, all  these  creatures  I  like  exceed- 
ingly; hut  I  should  like  hotter  to  see  a 
creature  like  myself.  Couldn't  you  show 
me  just  one  little  boy  ?" 

There  was  a  sigh  behind  him — it  might 
have  been  only  the  wind — and  the  cloak  re- 
mained so  long  balanced  motionless  in  air 
that  he  was  half  afraid  his  godmother  had 
forgotten  him,  or  was  offended  with  him  for 
asking  too  much.  Suddenly  a  shrill  whistle 
startled  him,  even  through  his  silver  ears, 
and  looking  downward,  he  saw  start  up 
from  behind  a  bush  on  a  common,  some- 
thing— 

Neither  a  sheep  nor  a  horse  nor  a  cow — 
nothing  upon  four  legs.  This  creature  had 
only  two ;  but  they  were  long,  straight,  and 
strong.     And  it  had  a  lithe,  active  body, 


130 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


and  a  curly  head  of  black  hair  set  upon  its 
shoulders.  It  was  a  boy,  a  shepherd-boy, 
about  the  Prince's  own  age — but  oh  !  so  dif- 
ferent. 

Not  that  he  was  an  ugly  boy — though  his 
face  wasralmost  as  red  as  his  hands,  and  his 
shaggy  hair  matted  like  the  backs  of  his 
own  sheep.  He  was  rather  a  nice-looking 
lad ;  and  seemed  so  bright  and  healthy 
and  good-tempered — "jolly  "  would  be  the 
word,  only  I  am  not  sure  if  they  have  such 
a  one  in  the  elegant  language  of  Nbmans- 
land — that  the  little  Prince  watched  him 
with  great  admiration. 

"  Might  he  come  and  play  with  me  ?  I 
would  drop  down  to  the  ground  to  him,  or 
fetch  him  up  to  me  here.  Oh,  how  nice  it 
would  be  if  I  only  had  a  little  boy  to  play 
with  me  !" 

But  the  cloak,  usually  so  obedient  to  his 
wishes,  disobeyed  him  now.     There  were 


"It  was  a  boy,  a  shepherd-boy." 


(  131  ) 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


133 


evidently  some  things  which  his  godmo- 
ther either  could  not  or  would  not  give. 
The  cloak  hung  stationary,  high  in  air, 
never  attempting  to  descend.  The  shepherd- 
lad  evidently  took  it  for  a  large  bird,  and, 
shading  his  eyes,  looked  up  at  it,  making 
the  Prince's  heart  beat  fast. 

However,  nothing  ensued.  The  boy 
turned  round,  with  a  long,  loud  whistle — 
seemingly  his  usual  and  only  way  of  ex- 
pressing his  feelings.  He  could  not  make 
the  thing  out  exactly — it  was  a  rather  mys- 
terious affair,  but  it  did  not  trouble  him 
much — he  was  not  an  "  examining  "  boy. 

Then,  stretching  himself,  for  he  had  been 
evidently  half  asleep,  he  began  flopping  his 
shoulders  with  his  arms,  to  wake  and  warm 
himself;  while  his  dog,  a  rough  collie,  who 
had  been  guarding  the  sheep  meanwhile, 
began  to  jump  upon  him,  barking  with  de- 
light. 


134 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"  Down,  Snap,  down  !  Stop  that,  or  I'll 
thrash  you,"  the  Prince  heard  him  say; 
though  with  such  a  rough,  hard  voice  and 
queer  pronunciation  that  it  was  difficult  to 
make  the  words  out.  "  Hollo  !  Let's  warm 
ourselves  by  a  race." 

They  started  off  together,  boy  and  dog — 
barking  and  shouting,  till  it  was  doubtful 
which  made  the  most  noise  or  ran  the  fast- 
est. A  regular  steeple-chase  it  was  :  first 
across  the  level  common,  greatly  disturbing 
the  quiet  sheep;  and  then  tearing  away 
across  country,  scrambling  through  hedges, 
and  leaping  ditches,  and  tumbling  up  and 
down  over  plowed  fields.  They  did  not 
seem  to  have  any  thing  to  run  for — but  as 
if  they  did  it,  both  of  them,  for  the  mere 
pleasure  of  motion. 

And  what  a  pleasure  that  seemed  !  To 
the  dog  of  course,  but  scarcely  less  so  to  the 
boy.      How  he   skimmed   along   over   the 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


135 


ground — liis  cheeks  glowing,  and  his  hair 
Hying,  and  his  logs — oh,  what  a  pair  of  legs 
he  had! 

Prince  Dolor  watched  him  with  great  in- 
tentness,  and  in  a  state  of  excitement  almost 
equal  to  that  of  the  runner  himself — for  a 
while.  Then  the  sweet,  pale  face  grew  a 
trifle  paler,  the  lips  began  to  quiver,  and  the 
eyes  to  till. 

"How  nice  it  must  be  to  run  like  that!" 
he  said  softly,  thinking  that  never — no, 
never  in  this  world — would  he  be  able  to 
do  the  same. 

Now  he  understood  what  his  godmother 
had  meant  when  she  gave  him  his  traveling- 
cloak,  and  why  he  had  heard  that  sigh — he 
was  sure  it  was  hers — when  he  had  asked 
to  see  "just  one  little  boy." 

"  I  think  I  had  rather  not  look  at  him 
again,"  said  the  poor  little  Trince,  drawing 
himself  back  into  the  centre  of  his  cloak, 


136 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


and  resuming  his  favorite  posture,  sitting 
like  a  Turk,  with  his  arms  wrapped  round 
his  feeble,  useless  legs. 

"  You're  no  good  to  me,"  he  said,  patting 
them  mournfully.  "  You  never  will  be  any 
good  to  me.  I  wonder  why  I  had  you  at 
all ;  I  wonder  why  I  was  born  at  all,  since  I 
was  not  to  grow  up  like  other  little  boys. 
Why  not  ?" 

A  question  so  strange,  so  sad,  yet  so  often 
occurring  in  some  form  or  other  in  this 
world — -as  you  will  find,  my  children,  when 
you  are  older — that  even  if  he  had  put  it  to 
his  mother  she  could  only  have  answered 
it,  as  we  have  to  answer  many  as  difficult 
things,  by  simply  saying,  "  I  don't  know." 
There  is  much  that  we  do  not  know,  and 
can  not  understand — we  big  folks  no  more 
than  you  little  ones.  We  have  to  accept  it 
all  just  as  you  have  to  accept  any  thing 
which   your    parents    may   tell    you,    even 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


137 


though  you  don't  as  yet  see  the  reason  of  it. 
You  may  some  time,  if  you  do  exactly  as 
they  tell  you,  and  are  content  to  wait. 

Prince  Dolor  sat  a  good  while  thus,  or  it 
appeared  to  him  a  good  while,  so  many 
thoughts  came  and  went  through  his  poor 
young  mind — thoughts  of  great  bitterness, 
which,  little  though  he  was,  seemed  to  make 
him  grow  years  older  in  a  few  minutes. 

Then  he  fancied  the  cloak  began  to  rock 
gently  to  and  fro,  with  a  soothing  kind  of 
motion,  as  if  ho  were  in  somebody's  arms : 
somebody  who  did  not  speak,  but  loved  him 
and  comforted  him  without  need  of  words; 
not  by  deceiving  him  with  false  encourage- 
ment or  hope,  but  by  making  him  see  the 
plain,  hard  truth  in  all  its  hardness,  and 
thus  letting  him  quietly  face  it,  till  it  grew 
softened  down,  and  did.  not  seem  nearly  so 
dreadful  after  all. 

Through  the  dreary  silence  and  blank- 


138  The  Little  Lame  Prince. 

ness,  for  he  had  placed  himself  so  that  he 
could  see  nothing  but  the  sky,  and  had 
taken  oft'  his  silver  ears  as  well  as  his  gold 
spectacles — what  was  the  use  of  either  when 
he  had  no  legs  with  which  to  walk  or  run? 
— up  from  below  there  rose  a  delicious 
sound. 

You  have  heard  it  hundreds  of  times,  my 
children,  and  so  have  I.  When  I  was  a 
child  I  thought  there  was  nothing  so  sweet; 
and  I  think  so  still.  It  was  iust  the  sons' 
of  a  skylark,  mounting  higher  and  higher 
from  the  ground,  till  it  came  so  close  that 
Prince  Dolor  could  distinguish  his  quiver- 
ing wings  and  tiny  body,  almost  too  tiny  to 
contain  such  a  gush  of  music. 

"  Oh,  you  beautiful,  beautiful  bird !"  cried 
he ;  "  I  should  dearly  like  to  take  you  in 
and  cuddle  you.  That  is,  if  I  could — if  I 
dared." 

But  he  hesitated.    The  little  brown  creat- 


or 
£522 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


130 


ure  with  its  loud  heavenly  voice  almost  made 
him  afraid.  Nevertheless  it  also  made  him 
happy;  and  he  watched  and  listened — so 
absorbed  that  he  forgot  all  regret  and  pain, 
forgot  every  thing  in  the  world  except  the 
little  lark. 

It  soared  and  soared,  and  he  was  just 
wondering  if  it  would  soar  out  of  sight,  and 
what  in  the  world  he  should  do  when  it  was 
gone,  when  it  suddenly  closed  its  wings,  as 
larks  do  when  they  mean  to  drop  to  the 
ground.  But,  instead  of  dropping  to  the 
ground,  it  dropped  right  into  the  little  boy's 
breast. 

What  felicity  !  If  it  would  only  stay !  A 
tiny,  soft  thing  to  fondle  and  kiss,  to  sing 
to  him  all  day  long,  and  be  his  playfellow 
and  companion,  tame  and  tender,  while  to 
the  rest  of  the  world  it  was  a  wild  bird  of 
the  air.  What  a  pride,  what  a  delight !  To 
have  something  that  nobody  else  had — some- 


140 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


thing  all  his  own.  As  the  traveling-cloak 
traveled  on,  he  little  heeded  where,  and  the 
lark  still  stayed,  nestled  down  in  his  bosom, 
hopped  from  his  hand  to  his  shoulder,  and 
kissed  him  with  its  dainty  beak,  as  if  it 
loved  him,  Prince  Dolor  forgot  all  his  grief, 
and  was  entirely  happy. 

But  when  he  got  in  sight  of  Hopeless 
Tower  a  painful  thought  struck  him. 

"  My  pretty  bird,  what  am  I  to  do  with 
you  ?  If  I  take  you  into  my  room  and  shut 
you  up  there,  you,  a  wild  skylark  of  the  air, 
what  will  become  of  you  ?  I  am  used  to 
this,  but  you  are  not.  You  will  be  so 
miserable;  and  suppose  my  nurse  should 
find  you — she  who  can't  bear  the  sound  of 
singing  ?  Besides,  I  remember  her  once 
telling  me  that  the  nicest  thing  she  ever  ate 
in  her  life  was  lark  pie  !" 

The  little  boy  shivered  all  over  at  the 
thought.     And  though  the  merry  lark  im- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


141 


mediately  broke  into  the  loudest  carol,  as 
if  saying  derisively  that  he  defied  any  body 
to  eat  him,  still  Prince  Dolor  was  very  un- 
easy. In  another  minute  he  had  made  up 
his  mind. 

"  ISTo,  my  bird,  nothing  so  dreadful  shall 
happen  to  you  if  I  can  help  it;  I  would 
rather  do  without  you  altogether.  Yes,  I'll 
try.  Fly  away,  my  darling,  my  beautiful ! 
Good-by,  my  merry,  merry  bird." 

Opening  his  two  caressing  hands,  in 
which,  as  if  for  protection,  he  had  folded  it 
he  let  the  lark  go.  It  lingered  a  minute, 
perching  on  the  rim  of  the  cloak,  and  look- 
ing at  him  with  eyes  of  almost  human  ten- 
derness ;  then  away  it  flew,  far  up  into  the 
blue  sky.     It  was  only  a  bird. 

But  some  time  after,  when  Prince  Dolor 
had  eaten  his  supper — somewhat  drearily, 
except  for  the  thought  that  he  could  not 
possibly  sup   off  lark  pie   now — and  gone 


142 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


quietly  to  bed,  the  old  familiar  little  bed, 
where  he  was  accustomed  to  sleep,  or  lie 
awake  contentedly  thinking — suddenly  he 
heard  outside  the  window  a  little  faint  carol 
— faint  but  cheerful — cheerful,  even  though 
it  was  the  middle  of  the  night. 

The  dear  little  lark !  it  had  not  flown 
away  after  all.  And  it  was  truly  the  most 
extraordinary  bird,  for,  unlike  ordinary 
larks,  it  kept  hovering  about  the  tower  in 
the  silence  and  darkness  of  the  night,  out- 
side the  window  or  over  the  roof.  When- 
ever he  listened  for  a  moment,  he  heard  it 
singing  still. 

He  went  to  sleep  as  happy  as  a  king. 


The  Little  Laine  Prince. 


143 


CHAPTER   VII. 


"  Happy  as  a  king."  How  far  kingb  are 
happy  I  cannot  say,  no  more  than  could 
Prince  Dolor,  though  he  had  once  been  a 
king  himself.  But  he  remembered  nothing 
about  it,  and  there  was  nobody  to  tell  him, 
except  his  nurse,  who  had  been  forbidden 
upon  pain  of  death  to  let  him  know  any  thing 
about  his  dead  parents,  or  the  king  his 
uncle,  or  indeed  any  part  of  his  own  history. 

Sometimes  he  speculated  about  himself, 
whether  he  had  had  a  father  and  mother  as 
other  little  boys  had,  what  they  had  been 
like,  and  why  he  had  never  seen  them. 
But,  knowing  nothing  about  them,  he  did 
not  miss  them — only  once  or  twice,  reading 
pretty  stories  about  little  children  and  their 
mothers,  who  helped  them  when  they  were 


144 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


in  difficulty,  and  comforted  them  when  they 
were  sick,  he,  feeling  ill  and  dull  and  lonely, 
wondered  what  had  become  of  his  mother, 
and  why  she  never  came  to  see  him. 

Then,  in  his  history  lessons,  of  course  he 
read  about  kings  and  princes,  and  the  gov- 
ernments of  different  countries,  and  the 
events  that  happened  there.  And  though 
he  but  faintly  took  in  all  this,  still  he  did 
take  it  in  a  little,  and  worried  his  young 
brain  about  it,  and  perplexed  his  nurse  with 
questions,  to  which  she  returned  sharp  and 
mysterious  answers,  which  only  set  him 
thinking  the  more. 

He  had  plenty  of  time  for  thinking. 
After  his  last  journey  in  the  traveling-cloak, 
the  journey  which  had  given  him  so  much 
pain,  his  desire  to  see  the  world  had  some- 
how faded  away.  lie  contented  himself 
with  reading  his  books,  and  looking  out  of 
the  tower  windows,  and  listenine;  to  his  be- 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


14^ 


loved  little  lark,  which  had  come  home 
with  him  that  day,  and  never  left  him  again. 

True,  it  kept  out  of  the  way ;  and  though 
his  nurse  sometimes  dimly  heard  it,  and 
said,  "  What  is  that  horrid  noise  outside  V 
she  never  got  the  faintest  chance  of  making 
in  into  a  lark  pie.  Prince  Dolor  had  his 
pet  all  to  himself,  and  though  he  seldom 
saw  it,  he  knew  it  was  near  him,  and  he 
caught  continually,  at  odd  hours  of  the  day, 
and  even  in  the  night,  fragments  of  its  de- 
licious song. 

All  during  the  winter — so  far  as  there 
ever  was  any  difference  between  summer 
and  winter  in  Hopeless  Tower — the  little 
bird  cheered  and  amused  him.  He  scarcely 
needed  any  thing  more — not  even  his  travel- 
ing-cloak, which  lay  bundled  up  unnoticed 
in  a  corner,  tied  up  in  its  innumerable  knots. 
ISTor  did  his  godmother  come  near  him.     It 

seemed  as  if  she  had  given  these  treasures 
10 


146 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


and  left  him  alone — to  use  them  or  lose 
them ,  apply  them  or  misapply  them ,  according 
to  his  own  choice.  That  is  all  we  can  do  with 
children  when  they  grow  into  big  children  old 
enough  to  distinguish  between  right  and 
wrong,  and  too  old  to  be  forced  to  do  either. 

Prince  Dolor  was  now  quite  a  big  boy. 
Not  tall — alas  !  he  never  could  be  that,  with 
his  poor  little  shrunken  legs,  which  were  of 
no  use,  only  an  encumbrance.  But  he  was 
stout  and  strong,  with  great  sturdy  shoul- 
ders, and  muscular  arms,  upon  which  ho 
could  swing  himself  about  almost  like  a 
monkey.  As  if  in  compensation  for  his 
useless  lower  limbs,  Nature  had  given  to 
these  extra  strength  and  activity.  His  face, 
too,  was  very  handsome ;  thinner,  firmer, 
more  manly ;  but  still  the  sweet  face  of  his* 
childhood — his  mother's  own  face. 

How  his  mother  would  have  liked  to  look 
at  him  !     Perhaps  she  did — who  knows  ? 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


147 


tf 


The  boy  was  not  a  stupid  hoy,  cither.  He 
could  learn  almost  any  thing  he  chose — and 
he  did  choose,  which  was  more  than  half 
the  battle.  lie  never  gave  up  his  lessons 
till  he  had  learned  them  all — never  thought 
it  a  punishment  that  he  had  to  work  at 
them,  and  that  they  cost  him  a  deal  of 
trouble  sometimes. 

"  But,"  thought  he,  "  men  work,  and  it 
must  be  so  grand  to  be  a  man — a  prince, 
too;  audi  fancy  princes  work  harder  than 
any  body — except  kings.  The  princes  I 
read  about  generally  turn  into  kings.  I 
wonder" — the  boy  was  always  wondering 
— "  Nurse  " — and  one  day  he  startled  her 
with  a  sudden  question — "  tell  me — shall  I 
ever  be  a  king  ?" 

The  woman  stood,  perplexed  beyond  ex- 
pression. So  long  a  time  had  passed  by 
since  her  crime — if  it  were  a  crime — and 
her  sentence,  that  she  now  seldom  thought 


148 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


of  either.  Even  her  punishment — to  be 
shut  up  for  life  in  Hopeless  Tower — she  had 
gradually  got  used  to.  Used  also  to  the 
little  lame  Prince,  her  charge — whom  at 
first  she  had  hated,  though  she  carefully  did 
every  thing  to  keep  him  alive,  since  upon 
him  her  own  life  hung.  But  latterly  she 
had  ceased  to  hate  him,  and,  in  a  sort  of 
way,  almost  loved  him — at  least,  enough  to 
be  sorry  for  him — an  innocent  child,  im- 
prisoned here  till  he  grew  into  an  old  man, 
and  became  a  dull,  worn-out  creature  like 
herself.  Sometimes,  watching  him,  she  felt 
more  sorry  for  him  than  even  for  herself; 
and  then,  seeing  she  looked  a  less  miserable 
and  ugly  woman,  he  did  not  shrink  from 
her  as  usual. 

He  did  not  now.  "  Nurse — dear  nurse," 
said  he,  "  I  don't  mean  to  vex  you,  but  tell 
me — what  is  a  king  ?  shall  I  ever  be  one  ?-" 

When  she  began  to  think  less  of  herself 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


149 


and  more  of  the  child,  the  woman's  courage 
increased.  The  idea  came  to  her — what 
harm  would  it  be,  even  if  he  did  know  his 
own  history  ?  Perhaps  he  ought  to  know 
it — for  there  had  been  various  ups  and 
downs,  usurpations,  revolutions,  and  restora- 
tions in  Nbmansland,  as  in  most  other  coun- 
tries. Something  might  happen — who  could 
tell  ?  Changes  might  occur.  Possibly  a 
crown  would  even  yet  bo  set  upon  those 
pretty,  fair  curls — which  she  began  to  think 
prettier  than  ever  when  she  saw  the  imagi- 
nary coronet  upon  them. 

She  sat  down,  considering  whether  her 
oath,  never  to  "  say  a  word "  to  Prince 
Dolor  about  himself,  would  be  broken  if  she 
were  to  take  a  pencil  and  write  what  was 
to  be  told.  A  mere  quibble — a  mean,  mis- 
erable quibble.  But  then  she  was  a  miser- 
able woman,  more  to  be  pitied  than  scorned. 

After  long  doubt,  and  with  great  trepida- 


150 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


tion,  she  put  her  finger  to  her  lips,  and 
taking  the  Prince's  slate — with  the  sponge 
tied  to  it,  ready  to  rub  out  the  writing  in  a 
minute — she  wrote — 

"  You  arc  a  king." 

Prince  Dolor  started.  His  face  grew 
pale,  and  then  flushed  all  over;  his  eyes 
glistened ;  he  held  himself  erect.  Lame  as 
he  was,  any  body  could  see  he  was  born  to 
be  a  king. 

"  Hush  !"  said  his  nurse,  as  he  was  begin- 
ning to  speak.  And  then,  terribly  fright- 
ened all  the  while — people  who  have  done 
wrong  always  are  frightened — she  wrote 
down  In  a  few  hurried  sentences  his  history. 
How  his  parents  had  died — his  uncle  had 
usurped  his  throne,  and  sent  him  to  end  his 
days  in  this  lonely  tower. 

"  I,  too,"  added  she,  bursting  into  tears. 
"  Unless,  indeed,  you  could  get  out  into  the 
world,  and  fight  for  your  rights  like  a  man. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


151 


And   fight  for  me  also,  my  Prince,  that  I 
may  not  die  in  this  desolate  place." 

"Poor  old  nurse!"  said  the  boy,  compas- 
sionately.    For   somehow,   boy   as   he  was, 


"Taking  the  Prince's  slate,  she  wrote,  'You  are  a 
king.'  " 

when  he  heard  he  was  born  to  be  a  king1,  he 
felt  like  a  man — like  a  king — who  could 
afford  to  be  tender  because  he  was  strong. 

lie  scarcely  slept  that  night,  and   even 
though  he  heard  his  little  lark  singing  in 


152 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


the  sunrise,  he  barely  listened  to  it.  Things 
more  serious  and  important  had  taken  pos- 
session of  his  mind. 

"  Suppose,"  thought  he,  "  I  were  to  do  as 
she  says  and  go  out  into  the  world,  no  mat- 
ter how  it  hurts  me — the  world  of  peoples- 
active  people,  as  active  as  that  boy  I  saw. 
They  might  only  laugh  at  me — poor  help- 
less creature  that  I  am ;  but  still  I  might 
show  them  I  could  do  something.  At  any 
rate,  I  might  go  and  see  if  there  were 
any  thing  for  me  to  do. .  Godmother,  help 
me!" 

It  was  so  long  since  he  had  asked  her 
help  that  he  was  hardly  surprised  when  he 
got  no  answer — only  the  little  lark  outside 
the  window  sang  louder  and  louder,  and  the 
sun  rose,  flooding  the  room  with  light. 

Frincc  Dolor  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  be- 
gan dressing  himself,  which  was  hard  work, 
for  he  was  not  used  to   it— he  had  always 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


153 


been  accustomed  to  depend  upon  his  nurse 
for  every  thing. 

"But  I  must  now  learn  to  be  independ- 
ent," thought  he.  "  Faney  a  king  being 
dressed  like  a  baby !" 

So  he  did  the  best  he  could — awkwardly 
but  cheerily — and  then  he  leaped  to  the 
corner  where  lay  his  traveling-eloak,  untied 
it  as  before,  and  watched  it  unrolling  itself 
— which  it  did  rapidly,  with  a  hearty  good- 
will, as  if  quite  tired  of  idleness.  So  was 
Prince  Dolor — or  felt  as  if  he  were.  lie 
jumped  into  the  middle  of  it,  said  his  charm, 
and  was  out  through  the  sky-light  imme- 
diately. 

"  Good-by,  pretty  lark!"  he  shouted,  as 
he  passed  it  on  the  wing,  still  warbling  its 
carol  to  the  newly  risen  sun.  "  You  have 
been  my  pleasure,  my  delight;  now  I  must 
go  and  work.  Siug  to  old  nurse  till  I  come 
back  again.     Perhaps  she'll  hear  you — per- 


154 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


haps  she  won't — but  it  will  do  her  good  all 
the  same.     Good-by!" 

But,  as  the  cloak  hung  irresolute  in  air, 
he  suddenly  remembered  that  he  had  not 
determined  where  to  go — indeed,  he  did  not 
know,  and  there  was  nobody  to  tell  him. 

"  Godmother,"  he  cried,  in  much  per- 
plexity, "  you  know  what  I  want — at  least, 
I  hope  you  do,  for  I  hardly  do  myself — take 
me  where  I  ought  to  go;  show  me  what- 
ever I  ought  to  see — never  mind  what  I  like 
to  see,"  as  a  sudden  idea  came  into  his  mind 
that  he  might  see  many  painful  and  dis- 
agreeable things.  But  this  journey  was  not 
for  pleasure — as  before.  He  was  not  a  baby 
now,  to  do  nothing  but  play — big  boys  do 
not  always  play.  Nor  men  neither — they 
work.  Thus  much  Prince  Dolor  knew — 
though  very  little  more.  And  as  the  cloak 
started  off,  traveling  faster  than  he  had  ever 
known   it   to    do — through    sky-land    and 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


15 


cloud-land,  over  freezing  mountain-tops,  and 
desolate  stretches  of  forest,  and  smiling  cul- 
tivated plains,  and  great  lakes  that  seemed 
to  him  almost  as  shoreless  as  the  sea — 
he  was  often  rather  frightened.  But  he 
crouched  down,  silent  and  quiet;  what  was 
the  use  of  making  a  fuss?  and,  wrapping 
himself  up  in  his  hearskin,  waited  for  what 
was  to  happen. 

After  some  time  he  heard  a  murmur  in 
the  distance,  increasing  more  and  more  till 
it  grew  like  the  hum  of  a  gigantic  hive  of 
bees.  And,  stretching  his  chin  over  the 
rim  of  his  cloak,  Prince  Dolor  saw — far,  far 
below  him,  yet,  with  his  gold  spectacles  and 
silver  ears  on,  he  could  distinctly  hear  and 
see — What  ? 

Most  of  us  have  some  time  or  other  visited 
a  great  metropolis — have  wandered  through 
its  net-work  of  streets — lost  ourselves  in  its 
crowds  of  people — looked  up  at  its  tall  rows 


156 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


,of  houses,  its  grand  public  buildings, 
churches,  and  squares.  Also,  perhaps,  we 
have  peeped  into  its  miserable  little  back 
alleys,  where  dirty  children  play  in  gutters 
all  day  and  half  the  night — or  where  men 
reel  tipsy  and  women  fight — where  even 
young  boys  go  about  picking  pockets,  with 
nobody  to  tell  them  it  is  wrong  except  the 
policeman,  and  he  simply  takes  them  off  to 
prison.  And  all  this  wretchedness  is  close 
behind  the  grandeur — like  the  two  sides  of 
the  leaf  of  a  book. 

An  awful  sight  is  a  large  city,  seen  any 
how,  from  any  where.  But,  suppose  you 
were  to  see  it  from  the  upper  air,  where, 
with  your  eyes  and  ears  open,  you  could 
take  in  every  thing  at  once  ?  What  would 
it  look  like  ?  How  would  you  feel  about 
it  ?     I  hardly  know  myself.     Do  you  ? 

Prince  Dolor  had  need  to  be  a  king — that 
is,  a  boy  with  a  Tangly  nature — to  be  able 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


157 


to  stand  such  a  sight  without  being  utterly 
overcome.  But  he  was  very  much  bewil- 
dered— as  bewildered  as  a  blind  person  who 
is  suddenly  made  to  see. 

lie  gazed  down  on  the  city  below  him, 
and  then  put  his  hand  over  his  eyes. 

"  I  can't  bear  to  look  at  it,  it  is  so  beauti- 
ful— so  dreadful.  And  I  don't  understand 
it — not  one  bit.  There  is  nobody  to  tell  me 
about  it.  I  wish  I  had  somebody  to  speak 
to." 

"  Do  you  ?  Then  pray  speak  to  me.  I 
was  always  considered  good  at  conversa- 
tion." 

The  voice  that  squeaked  out  this  reply 
was  an  excellent  imitation  of  the  human 
one,  though  it  came  only  from  a  bird.  No 
lark  this  time,  however,  but  a  great  black 
and  white  creature  that  flew  into  the  cloak, 
and  began  walking  round  and  round  on  the 
edge  of  it  with  a  dignified  stride,  one  foot 


158 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


before  the  other,  like  any  unfeatherccl  biped 
you  could  name. 

"I  haven't  the  honor  of  your  acquaint- 
ance, sir,"  said  the  boy  politely. 

"Ma'am,  if  you  please.  I  am  a  mother- 
bird,  and  my  name  is  Mag,  and  I  shall  be 
happy  to  tell  you  every  thing  you  want  to 
know.  For  I  know  a  great  deal;  and  I 
enjoy  talking.  My  family  is  of  great  an- 
tiquity ;  we  have  built  in  this  palace  for  hun- 
dreds— that  is  to  say,  dozens  of  years.  I 
am  intimately  acquainted  with  the  King, 
the  Queen,  and  the  little  princes  and  prin- 
cesses— also  the  maids  of  honor,  and  all  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city.  I  talk  a  good  deal, 
but  I  always  talk  sense,  and  I  dare  say  I 
should  be  exceedingly  useful  to  a  poor  lit- 
tle ignorant  boy  like  you." 

"  I  am  a  prince,"  said  the  other  gently. 

"  All  right.  And  I  am  a  magpie.  You 
will  find  me  a  most  respectable  bird." 


160 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


all.  One  half  the  people  seemed  so  happy 
and  busy — hurrying  up  and  down  the  full 
streets,  or  driving  lazily  along  the  parks  in 
their  grand  carriages,  while  the  other  half 
were  so  wretched  and  miserable. 

"  Can't  the  world  be  made  a  little  more 
level  ?  I  would  try  to  do  it  if  I  were  the 
king." 

"But  you're  not  the  king;  only  a  little 
goose  of  a  boy,"  returned  the  Magpie  loftily. 
"  And  I'm  here  not  to  explain  things,  only 
to  show  them.  Shall  I  show  you  the  royal 
palace?" 

It  was  a  very  magnificent  palace.  It  had 
terraces  and  gardens,  battlements  and  tow- 
ers. It  extended  over  acres  of  ground,  and 
had  in  it  rooms  enough  to  accommodate 
half  the  city.  Its  windows  looked  in  all 
directions,  but  none  of  *them  had  any  par- 
ticular view — except  a  small  one,  high  up 
toward   the   roof,   which    looked    onto    the 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


101 


Beautiful  Mountains.  But  since  the  Queen 
f^L  died  there  it  had  been  closed,  hoarded  up, 
indeed,  the  Magpie  said.  It  was  so  little 
and  inconvenient  that  nobody  cared  to  live 
in  it.  Besides,  the  lower  apartments,  which 
had  no  view,  were  magnificent — worthy  of 
being  inhabited  by  his  Majesty  the  King. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  the  King,"  said 
Prince  Dolor. 

But  what  followed  was  so  important  that 
I  must  take  another  chapter  to  tell  it  in. 


11 


162 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


&** 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


"What,  I  wonder,  would  be  most  people's 
idea  of  a  king  ?  What  was  Prince  Dolor's  ? 
Perhaps  a  very  splendid  personage,  with  a 
crown  on  his  head  and  a  sceptre  in  his 
hand,  sitting  on  a  throne  and  judging  the 
people.  Always  doing  right,  and  never 
wrong — "  The  king  can  do  no  wrong  "  was 
a  law  laid  down  in  olden  times.  Never 
cross  or  tired  or  sick  or  suffering;  per- 
fectly handsome  and  well-dressed,  calm  and 
good-tempered,  ready  to  see  and  hear  every 
body,  and  discourteous  to  nobody  ;  all  things 
always  going  well  with  him,  and  nothing 
unpleasant  ever  happening. 

This,  probably,  was  what  Prince  Dolor 
expected  to  see.  And  what  did  he  see? 
But  I  must  tell  you  how  he  saw  it. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


163 


"Ah,"  said  the  Magpie,  "no  levee  to- 
day. The  King  is  ill,  though  his  Majesty 
does  not  wish  it  to  be  generally  known — it 
would  be  so  very  inconvenient.  He  can't 
see  you,  but  perhaps  you  might  like  to  go 
and  take  a  look  at  him  in  a  way  I  often  do  ? 
It  is  so  very  amusing." 

Amusing,  indeed  I 

The  Prince  was  just  now  too  much  ex- 
cited to  talk  much.  Was  he  not  o;oing  to 
see  the  King  his  uncle,  who  had  succeeded 
his  father  and  dethroned  himself;  had 
stepped  into  all  the  pleasant  things  that  he, 
Prince  Dolor,  ought  to  have  had,  and  shut 
him  up  in  a  desolate  tower?  What  was  he 
like,  this  great,  bad,  clever  man  ?  Had  he 
got  all  the  things  he  wanted,  which  another 
ought  to  have  had  ?  And  did  he  enjoy 
them  ? 

"  Nobody  knows,"  answered  the  Magpie, 
just  as  if  she  had  been  sitting  inside  the 


164 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Prince's  heart,  instead  of  on  the  top  of  his 
shoulder.  "  He  is  a  king,  and  that's  enough. 
For  the  rest,  nobody  knows." 

As  she  spoke,  Mag  flew  down  onto  the 
palace  roof,  where  the  cloak  had  rested,  set- 
tling down  between  the  great  stacks  of 
chimneys  as  comfortably  as  if  on  the  ground. 
She  pecked  at  the  tiles  with  her  beak — 
truly  she  was  a  wonderful  bird — and  imme- 
diately a  little  hole  opened,  a  sort  of  door, 
through  which  could  be  seen  distinctly  the 
chamber  below. 

"  Now  look  in,  my  Prince.  Make  haste, 
for  I  must  soon  shut  it  up  again." 

But  the  boy  hesitated.  "  Isn't  it  rude  ? 
— won't  they  think  us  intruding  ?" 

"  Oh  dear  no !  there's  a  hole  like  this 
in  every  palace ;  dozens  of  holes,  indeed. 
Every  body  knows  it,  but  nobody  speaks  of 
it.  Intrusion !  Why,  though  the  royal 
family  are  supposed  to  live  shut  up  behind 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


105 


stone  walls  ever  so  tliick,  all  the  world 
knows  that  they  live  in  a  glass  house  where 
every  body  can  see  them  and  throw  a  stone 
at  them.  Now,  pop  down  on  your  knees, 
and  take  a  peep  at  his  Majesty  !" 

His  Majesty ! 

The  Prince  gazed  eagerly  down  into  a 
large  room,  the  largest  room  he  had  ever 
beheld,  with  furniture  and  hangings 
grander  than  any  thing  he  conld  have  ever 
imagined.  A  stray  sunbeam,  coming 
through  a  crevice  of  the  darkened  win- 
dows, struck  across  the  carpet,  and  it  was 
the  loveliest  carpet  ever  woven — just  like  a 
bed  of  flowers  to  walk  over;  only  nobody 
walked  over  it,  the  room  being  perfectly 
empty  and  silent. 

"  Where  is  the  King  ?"  asked  the  puzzled 
boy. 

"  There,"  said  Mag,  pointing  with  one 
wrinkled  claw  to   a  magnificent  bed,  large 


166 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


enough  to  contain  six  people.  In  the  centre 
of  it,  just  visible  under  the  silken  counter- 
pane— quite  straight  and  still — with  its 
head  on  the  lace  pillow,  lay  a  small  hgure, 
something  like  wax-work,  fast  asleep — very- 
fast  asleep  !  There  was  a  number  of  spark- 
ling rings  on  the  tiny  yellow  hands,  that 
were  curled  a  little,  helplessly,  like  a  baby's, 
outside  the  coverlet ;  the  eyes  were  shut, 
the  nose  looked  sharp  and  thin,  and  the 
long  gray  beard  hid  the  mouth  and  lay  over 
the  breast.  A  sight  not  ugly  nor  frighten- 
ing, only  solemn  and  quiet.  And  so  very 
silent — two  little  flies  buzzing  about  the 
curtains  of  the  bed  making  the  only  audible 
sound. 

"  Is  that  the  King  ?"  whispered  Prince 
Dolor. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  bird. 

He  had  been  angry — furiously  angry — 
ever  since  he  knew  how  his  uncle  had  taken 


168 


The   Little  Lame  Prince. 


"  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?"  asked 
the  Prince  again. 

"  He  is  dead,"  said  the  Magpie,  with  a 
croak. 

"No,  there  was  not  the  least  use  in  being 
angry  with  him  now.  On  the  contrary,  the 
Prince  felt  almost  sorry  for  him,  except  that 
he  looked  so  peaceful,  with  all  his  cares  at 
rest.  And  this  wTas  being  dead  ?  So  even 
kings  died? 

"  Well,  well,  he  hadn't  an  easy  life,  folk 
say,  for  all  his  grandeur.  Perhaps  he  is 
glad  it  is  over.     Good-by,  your  Majesty." 

With  another  cheerful  tap  of  her  beak, 
Mistress  Mag  shut  down  the  little  door  in 
the  tiles,  and  Prince  Dolor's  first  and  last 
sight  of  his  uncle  was  ended. 

He  sat  in  the  centre  of  his  traveling-cloak, 
silent  and  thoughtful. 

"  What  shall  we  do  now  ?"  said  the  Mag- 
pie.    "  There's   nothing  much  more  to  be 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


169 


done  with  his  Majesty,  except  a  fine  funeral, 
which  I  shall  certainly  go  and  see.  All  the 
world  will.  He  interested  the  world  ex- 
ceedingly when  he  was  alive,  and  he  ought 
to  do  it  now  he's  dead — just  once  more. 
And  since  he  can't  hear  me,  I  may  as  well 
say  that,  on  the  whole,  his  Majesty  is  much 
better  dead  than  alive — if  we  can  only  get 
some  body  in  his  place.  There'll  be  such  a 
row  in  the  city  presently.  Suppose  we  float 
up  again,  and  see  it  all — at  a  safe  distance, 
though.  It  will  be  such  fun." 
■    «  What  will  be  fun  ?" 

"  A  revolution." 

Whether  any  body  except  a  magpie  would 
have  called  it  "  fun  "  I  don't  know,  but  it 
certainly  was  a  remarkable  scene. 

As  soon  as  the  cathedral  bell  began  to 
toll  and  the  minute  guns  to  fire,  announcing 
to  the  kingdom  that  it  was  without  a  kinc; 
the  people  gathered  in  crowds,  stopping  at 


170 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


street  corners  to  talk  together.  The  mur- 
mur now  and  then  rose  into  a  shout,  and 
the  shout  into  a  roar.  When  Prince  Dolor, 
quietly  floating  in  upper  air,  caught  the 
sound  of  their  different  and  opposite  cries, 
it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  whole  city  had 
gone  mad  together. 

"Long  live  the  King!"  "The  King  is 
dead — down  with  the  King  !"  "  Down  with 
the  crown,  and  the  King,  too!"  "Hurrah 
for  the  Republic!"  "Hurrah  for  no  gov- 
ernment at  all !" 

Such  were  the  shouts  which  traveled  up 
to  the  traveling-cloak.  And  then  began — 
oh,  what  a  scene  ! 

When  you  children  are  grown  men  and 
women — or  before — you  will  hear  and  read 
in  books  about  what  are  called  revolutions 
— earnestly  I  trust  that  neither  I  nor  you 
may  ever  see  one.  But  they  have  hap- 
pened,   and    may    happen    again,  in    other 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


171 


countries  besides  Nbmansland,  when  wicked 
kings  have  helped  to  make  their  people 
wicked  too,  or  out  of  an  unrighteous  nation 
have  sprung  rulers  equally  bad;  or,  without 
cither  of  these  causes,  when  a  restless  coun- 
try has  fancied  any  change  better  than  no 
change  at  all. 

For  me,  I  don't  like  changes,  unless  pretty 
sure  that  they  are  for  good.  And  how  good 
can  come  out  of  absolute  evil — the  horrible 
evil  that  went  on  this  night  under  Prince 
Dolor's  very  eyes — soldiers  shooting  people 
down  by  hundreds  in  the  streets,  scaffolds 
erected,  and  heads  dropping  off — houses 
burned,  and  women  and  children  mur- 
dered— this  is  more  than  I  can  under- 
stand. 

But  all  these  things  you  will  find  in  his- 
tory, my  children,  and  must  by  and  by 
judge  for  yourselves  the  right  and  wrong 
of  them,  as  far  as  any  body  ever  can  judge. 


172 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Prince  Dolor  saw  it  all.  Things  hap- 
pened so  fast  one  after  another  that  they 
quite  confused  his  faculties. 

"  Oh,  let  me  go  home,"  he  cried  at  last, 
stopping  his  ears  and  shutting  his  eyes; 
"  only  let  me  go  home  !"  for  even  his  lonely 
tower  seemed  home,  and  its  dreariness  and 
silence  absolute  paradise  after  all  this. 

"  Good-by,  then,"  said  the  Magpie,  flap- 
ping her  wings.  She  had  been  chatting  in- 
cessantly all  day  and  all  night,  for  it  was  ac- 
tually thus  long  that  Prince  Dolor  had  been 
hovering  over  the  city,  neither  eating  nor 
sleeping,  with  all  these  terrible  things  hap- 
pening under  his  very  eyes.  "  You've  had 
enough,  I  suppose,  of  seeing  the  world?" 

"  Oh,  I  have — I  have  !"  cried  the  Prince, 
with  a  shudder. 

"  That  is,  till  next  time.  All  right,  your 
Royal  Highness.  You  don't  know  me,  but  I 
know  you.    We  may  meet  again  some  time." 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


173 


She  looked  at  him  with  her  clear,  pierc- 
ing eyes,  sharp  enough  to  see  through  every 
thing,  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  changed 
from  bird's  eyes  to  human  eyes — the  very 
eyes  of  his  godmother,  whom  he  had  not 
seen  for  ever  so  long.  But  the  minute 
afterward  she  became  only  a  bird,  and  with 
a  screech  and  a  chatter,  spread  her  wings 
and  flew  away. 

Prince  Dolor  fell  into  a  kind  of  swoon, 
of  utter  misery,  bewilderment,  and  ex- 
haustion, and  when  he  awoke  he  found 
himself  in  his  own  room — alone  and  quiet 
— with  the  dawn  just  breaking,  and  the 
long  rim  of  yellow  light  in  the  horizon 
glimmering  through  the  window-panes. 


174 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


When  Prince  Dolor  sat  up  in  bed,  trying 
to  remember  where  he  was,  whither  he  had 
been,  and  what  he  had  seen  the  day  before, 
he  perceived  that  his  room  was  empty. 

Generally  his  nurse  rather  worried  him 
by  breaking  his  slumbers,  coming  in  and 
"  setting  things  to  rights,"  as  she  called  it 
Now  the  dust  lay  thick  upon  chairs  and 
tables;  there  was  no  harsh  voice  heard  to 
scold  him  for  not  getting  up  immediately — 
which,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  this  boy  did  not  al- 
ways do.  For  he  so  enjoyed  lying  still,  and 
thinking  lazily  about  every  thing  or  nothing, 
that,  if  he  had  not  tried  hard  against  it,  he 
would  certainly  have  become  like  those 
celebrated 

"Two  little  men 
Who  lay  in  their  bed  till  the  clock  struck  ten." 


The  Little  Lame  Prince 


175 


It  was  striking  ten  now,  and  still  no  nurse 
was  to  be  seen.  lie  was  rather  relieved  at 
first,  for  he  felt  so  tired ;  and  besides,  when 
he  stretched  out  his  arm,  he  found  to  his 
dismay  that  he  had  gone  to  bed  in  his 
clothes. 

Very  uncomfortable  lie  felt,  of  course; 
and  just  a  little  frightened.  Especially  when 
he  began  to  call  and  call  again,  but  nobody 
answered.  Often  lie  used  to  think  how  nice 
it  would  be  to  get  rid  of  his  nurse  and  live 
in  this  tower  all  by  himself — like  a  sort 
of  monarch,  able  to  do  every  thing  he 
liked,  and  leave  undone  all  that  he  did 
not  want  to  do ;  but  now  that  this  seemed 
really  to  have  happened,  he  did  not  like  it 
at  all. 

"  Nurse — dear  nurse — please  come  back !" 
he  called  out.  "  Come  back,  and  I  will  be 
the  best  boy  in  all  the  land." 

And  when  she   did  not  come  back,  and 


176 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


nothing  but  silence  answered  his  lamentable 
call,  he  very  nearly  began  to  cry. 

"  This  won't  do,"  he  said  at  last,  clashing 
the  tears  from  his  eyes.  "  It's  just  like  a 
baby,  and  I'm  a  big  boy — shall  be  a  man 
some  day.  What  has  happened,  I  wonder  ? 
I'll  go* and  see." 

He  sprang  out  of  bed — not  to  his  feet, 
alas  !  but  to  his  poor  little  weak  knees,  and 
crawled  on  them  from  room  to  room.  All 
the  four  chambers  were  deserted — not  for- 
lorn or  untidy,  for  every  thing  seemed  to 
have  been  done  for  his  comfort — the  break- 
fast and  dinner  things  were  laid,  the  food 
spread  in  order.  He  might  live  "  like  a 
prince,"  as  the  proverb  is,  for  several  days. 
But  the  place  was  entirely  forsaken — there 
was  evidently  not  a  creature  but  himself  in 
the  solitary  tower. 

A  great  fear  came  upon  the  poor  boy. 
Lonely  as  his  life  had  been,  he  had  never 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


177 


known  what  it  was  to  be  absolutely  alone. 
A  kind  of  despair  seized  him — no  violent 
anger  or  terror,  but  a  sort  el' patient  desola- 
tion. 

"  What  in  the  world  am  I  to  do  ?"  thought 
he,  and  sat  down  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
half  inclined  to  believe  that  it  would  be 
better  to  give  up  entirely,  lay  himself  down, 
and  die. 

This  feeling,  however,  did  not  last  long, 
for  he  was  young  and  strong,  and,  I  said 
before,  by  nature  a  very  courageous  boy. 
There  came  into  his  head,  somehow  or  other, 
a  proverb  that  his  nurse  had  taught  him — 
the  people  of  Nomansland  were  very  fond 
of  proverbs — 

"  For  every  evil  under  the  sun 
There  is  a  remedy,  or  there's  none  ; 
If  there  is  one,  try  to  find  it — 
If  there  isn't,  never  mind  it." 

"I  wonder  is  there  a   remedy  now,  and 
12 


178 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


could  I  find  it?"  cried  the  Prince,  jumping 
up  and  looking  out  of  the  window. 

No  help  there.  He  only  saw  the  broad, 
bleak,  sunshiny  plain — that  is,  at  first.  But 
by  and  by,  in  the  circle  of  mud  that  sur- 
rounded the  base  of  the  tower,  he  perceived 
distinctly  the  marks  of  a  horse's  feet,  and 
just  in  the  spot  where  the  deaf-mute  was 
accustomed  to  tie  up  his  great  black  charger, 
while  he  himself  ascended,  there  lay  the 
remains  of  a  bundle  of  hay  and  a  feed  of 
corn. 

"  Yes,  that's  it.  He  has  come  and  gone, 
taking  nurse  away  with  him.  Poor  nurse  ! 
how  glad  she  would  be  to  go  !" 

That  was  Prince  Dolor's  first  thought. 
His  second — wasn't  it  natural  ? — was  a  pas- 
sionate indignation  at  her  cruelty — at  the 
cruelty  of  all  the  world  toward  him,  a  poor 
little  helpless  boy.  Then  he  determined, 
forsaken  as  he  was,  to  try  and  hold   on  to 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


179 


the  last,  and  not  to  die  as  long  as  he  could 
possibly  help  it. 

Anyhow,  it  would  be  easier  to  die  here 
than  out  in  the  world,  among  the  terrible 
doings  which  he  had  just  beheld — from  the 


^JC 


Ic^r^r^ 


"  There  was  a  grand  revolution." 

midst  of  which,  it  suddenly  struck  him,  the 
deaf-mute  had  come,  contriving  somehow  to 
make  the  nurse  understand  that  the  king 
was  dead,  and  she  need  have  no  fear  in 
going  back  to  the  capital,  where  there  was 


180 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


a  grand  revolution,  and  every  thing  turned 
upside  down.     So,  of  course,  she  had  gone. 

"  I  hope  she'll  enjoy  it,  miserable  woman 
— if  they  don't  cut  off  her  head  too." 

And  then  a  kind  of  remorse  smote  him 
for  feeling  so  bitterly  toward  her,  after  all 
the  years  she  had  taken  care  of  him — 
grudgingly,  perhaps,  and  coldly;  still  she 
had  taken  care  of  him,  and  that  even  to  the 
last ;  for,  as  I  have  said,  all  his  four  rooms 
were  as  tidy  as  possible,  and  his  meals  laid 
out,  that  he  might  have  no  more  trouble 
than  could  be  helped. 

"  Possibly  she  did  not  mean  to  be  cruel. 
I  won't  judge  her,"  said  he.  And  after- 
ward he  was  very  glad  that  he  had  so  deter- 
mined. 

For  the  second  time  he  tried  to  dress 
himself,  and  then  to  do  every  thing  he 
could  for  himself — even  to  sweeping  up  the 
hearth  and  putting  on  more  coals.     "  It's  a 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


181 


funny  thing  for  a  prince  to  have  to  do,"  said 
lie,  laughing.  "  But  my  godmother  once 
said  princes  need  never  mind  doing  any 
thing." 

And  then  he  thought  a  little  of  his  god- 
mother. Not  of  summoning  her,  or  asking 
her  to  help  him — she  had  evidently  left  him 
to  help  himself,  and  he  was  determined  to  try 
his  best  to  do  it,  being  a  very  proud  and  in- 
dependent boy — but  he  remembered  her 
tenderly  and  regretfully,  as  if  even  she  had 
been  a  little  hard  upon  him — poor,  forlorn 
boy  that  he  was.  But  he  seemed  to  have 
seen  and  learned  so  much  within  the  last 
few  days  that  he  scarcely  felt  like  a  boy,  but 
a  man — until  he  went  to  bed  at  night. 

When  I  was  a  child,  T  used  often  to  think 
how  nice  it  would  be  to  live  in  a  little  house 
all  by  my  own  self — a  house  built  high  up 
in  a  tree,  or  far  away  in  a  forest,  or  half-way 
up  a  hill-side — so  deliciously  alone  and  inde- 


182 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


pendent.  Not  a  lesson  to  learn — but  no  !  I 
always  liked  learning  my  lessons.  Any 
how,  to  choose  the  lessons  I  liked  best,  to 
have  as  many  books  to  read  and  dolls  to 
play  with  as  ever  I  wanted :  above  all,  to  be 
free  and  at  rest,  with  nobody  to  tease  or 
trouble  or  scold  me,  would  be  charming. 
For  I  was  a  lonely  little  thing,  who  liked 
quietness — as  many  children  do;  which 
other  children,  and  sometimes  grown-up 
people  even,  can  not  understand.  And  so 
I  can  understand  Prince  Dolor. 

After  his  first  despair,  he  was  not  merely 
comfortable ,  but  actually  happy  in  his  solitude, 
doing  every  thing  for  himself,  and  enjoying 
every  thing  by  himself — until  bed-time. 

Then  he  did  not  like  it  at  all.  ISTo  more, 
I  suppose,  than  other  children  would  have 
liked  my  imaginary  house  in  a  tree,  when 
they  had  had  sufficient  of  their  own  com- 
pany. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince, 


183 


But  the  Ftincc  had  to  bear  it — and  lie 
did  bear  it,  like  a  prince — for  fully  live 
days.  All  thai,  time  he  got  up  in  the  morn- 
ing and  went  to  bed  at  night  without  having 
spoken  to  a  creature,  or,  indeed,  heard  a 
single  sound  For  even  his  little  lark  was 
silent;  and  as  for  his  traveling-cloak,  cither 
he  never  thought  about  it,  or  else  it  had 
been  spirited  awa}- — for  he  made  no  use  of 
it,  nor  attempted  to  do  so. 

A  very  strange  existence  it  was,  those  five 
lonely  days.  lie  never  entirely  forgot  it. 
It  threw  him  back  upon  himself,  and  into 
himself — in  a  way  that  all  of  us  have  to 
learn  when  we  grow  up,  and  are  the  better 
for  it;  but  it  is  somewhat  hard  learning. 

On  the  sixth  day  Prince  Dolor  had  a 
strange  composure  in  his  look,  but  he  was 
very  grave  and  thin  and  white.  He  had 
nearly  come  to  the  end  of  his  provisions — ■ 
and  what  was  to  happen  next  ?     Get  out  of 


184 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


•the  tower  he  could  not :  the  ladder  the  deaf- 
mute  used  was  always  carried  away  again; 
and  if  it  had  not  been,  how  could  the  poor 
boy  have  used  it  ?  And  even  if  he  slung  or 
flung  himself  down,  and  by  miraculous 
chance  came  alive  to  the  foot  of  the  tower, 
how  could  he  run  away  ? 

Fate  had  been  very  hard  to  him,  or  so  it 
seemed. 

He  made  up  his  mind  to  die.  Not  that 
he  wished  to  die ;  on  the  contrary,  there  was 
a  great  deal  that  he  wished  to  live  to  do; 
but  if  he  must  die,  he  must.  Dying  did  not 
seem  so  very  dreadful;  not  even  to  lie  quiet 
like  his  uncle,  whom  he  had  entirely  for- 
given now,  and  neither  be  miserable  nor 
naughty  any  more,  and  escape  all  those  hor- 
rible things  that  he  had  seen  going  on  out- 
side the  palace,  in  that  awful  place  which 
was  called  "  the  world." 

"  It's  a  great  deal  nicer  here,"  said  the 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


185 


poor  little  Prince,  and  collected  all  his  pretty 
things  round  him :  his  favorite  pictures, 
which  he  thought  he  should  like  to  have 
near  him  when  he  died ;  his  books  and  toys 
— no,  he  had  ceased  to  care  for  toys  now; 
he  only  liked  them  because  he  had  done  so 
as  a  child.  And  there  he  sat  very  calm 
and  patient,  like  a  king  in  his  castle,  waiting 
for  the  end. 

"  Still,  I  wish  I  had  done  something  first 
— something  worth  doing,  that  somebody 
might  remember  me  by,"  thought  he. 
"  Suppose  I  had  grown  a  man,  and  had  had 
work  to  do,  and  people  to  care  for,  and  was 
so  useful  and  busy  that  they  liked  me,  and 
perhaps  even  forgot  I  was  lame  ?  Then  it 
would  have  been  nice  to  live,  I  think." 

A  tear  came  into  the  little  fellow's  eyes, 
and  he  listened  intently  through  the  dead 
silence  for  some  hopeful  sound. 

Was  there  one? — was  it  his  little  lark, 


186 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


whom  he  had  almost  forgotten  ?  ISTo, 
nothing  half  so  sweet.  But  it  really  was 
something— something  which  came  nearer 
and  nearer,  so  that  there  was  no  mistaking 
it.  It  was  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  one  of 
the  great  silver  trumpets  so  admired  in  No- 
mansland.  Not  pleasant  music,  but  very 
bold,  grand,  and  inspiring. 

As  he  listened  to  it  the  boy  seemed  to  re- 
call many  things  which  had  slipped  his 
memory  for  years,  and  to  nerve  himself  for 
whatever  might  be  going  to  happen. 

What  had  happened  was  this. 

The  poor  condemned  woman  had  not 
been  such  a  wicked  woman  after  all.  Per- 
haps her  courage  was  not  wholly  disinter- 
ested, but  she  had  done  a  very  heroic  thing. 
As  soon  as  she  heard  of  the  death  and  bur- 
ial of  the  King,  and  of  the  changes  that 
were  taking  place  in  the  country,  a  daring 
idea  came  into  her  head — to  set  upon  the 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


187 


throne  of  Nomansland  its  rightful  heir. 
Thereupon  Bhe  persuaded  the  deaf-mute  to 
take  her  away  with  him,  and  they  galloped 
like  the  wind  from  city  to  city,  spreading 
every  where  the  news  that  Prince  Dolor's 
death  andhurial  had  heen  an  invention  con- 
cocted hy  his  wicked  uncle — that  he  was 
alive  and  well,  and  the  noblest  young 
Prince  that  ever  was  born. 

It  was  a  bold  stroke,  but  it  succeeded. 
The  country,  weary  perhaps  of  the  late 
King's  harsh  rule,  and  yet  glad  to  save  it- 
self from  the  horrors  of  the  last  few  days, 
and  the  still  further  horrors  of  no  rule  at 
all,  and  having  no  particular  interest  in  the 
other  young  princes,  jumped  at  the  idea  of 
this  Prince,  who  was  the  son  of  their  late 
good  King  and  the  beloved  Queen  Dolorez. 

"  Hurrah  for  Prince  Dolor !  Let  Prince 
Dolor  be  our  sovereign  !"  rang  from  end  to 
end  of  the  kingdom.     Every  body  tried  to 


188 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


.remember  what  a  dear  baby  he  once  was — 
how  like  his  mother,  who  had  been  so  sweet 
and  kind,  and  his  father,  the  finest-looking 
king  that  ever  reigned.  Nobody  remem- 
bered his  lameness — or,  if  they  did,  they 
passed  it  over  as  a  matter  of  no  conse- 
quence. They  were  determined  to  have 
him  to  reign  over  them,  boy  as  he  was — 
perhaps  just  because  he  was  a  boy,  since  in 
that  case  the  great  nobles  thought  they 
should  be  able  to  do  as  they  liked  with  the 
country. 

Accordingly,  with  a  fickleness  not  con- 
fined to  the  people  of  Nomansland,  no 
sooner  was  the  late  King  laid  in  his  grave 
than  they  pronounced  him  to  have  been  a 
usurper;  turned  all  his  family  out  of  the 
palace,  and  left  it  empty  for  the  reception 
of  the  new  sovereign,  whom  they  went  to 
fetch  with  great  rejoicing,  a  select  body  of 
lords,   gentlemen,    and    soldiers    traveling 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


180 


night  and  day  in  solemn  procession  through 
the  country  until  they  reached  Hopeless 
Tower. 

There  they  found  the  Prince,  sitting 
calmly  on  the  floor — deadly  pale,  indeed, 
for  he  expected  a  quite  different  end  from 
this,  and  was  'resolved,  if  he  had  to  die,  to 
die  courageously,  like  a  Prince  and  a  King. 

But  when  they  hailed  him  as  Prince  and 
King,  and  explained  to  him  how  matters 
stood,  and  went  down  on  their  knees  before 
him,  offering  the  crown  (on  a  velvet  cush- 
ion, with  four  golden  tassels,  each  nearly  as 
big  as  his  head) — small  though  he  was  and 
lame,  which  lameness  the  courtiers  pre- 
tended not  to  notice — there  came  such  a 
glow  into  his  face,  such  a  dignity  into  his  de- 
meanor, that  he  became  beautiful,  king-like. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  if  you  desire  it,  I  will 
be  3rour  king.  And  I  will  do  my  best  to 
make  my  people  happy." 


190 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Then  there  arose,  from  inside  and  outside 
the  tower,  such  a  shout  as  never  yet  was 
heard  across  the  lonely  plain. 

Prince  Dolor  shrank  a  little  from  the 
deafening  sound.  "How  shall  I  be  able  to 
rule  all  this  great  people  ?  You  forget,  my 
lords,  that  I  am  only  a  little  boy  still." 

"  Not  so  very  little,"  was  the  respectful 
answer.  "  We  have  searched  in  the  records, 
and  found  that  your  Royal  Highness — your 
Majesty,  I  mean — is  precisely  fifteen  years 
old." 

"  Am  I  ?"  said  Prince  Dolor ;  and  his  first 
thought  was  a  thoroughly  childish  pleasure 
that  he  should  now  have  a  birthday,  with  a 
whole  nation  to  keep  it.  Then  he  remem- 
bered that  his  childish  days  were  done.  He 
was  a  monarch  now.  Even  his  nurse,  to 
whom,  the  moment  he  saw  her,  he  had  held 
out  his  hand,  kissed  it  reverently,  and  called 
him  ceremoniously  "  his  Majesty  the  King." 


''They  went  down  on  their  knees  before  him,  offering  him  the  crown 
on  a  velvet  cushion." 

(  191  ) 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


193 


"  A  king  must  be  always  a  king,  I  sup- 
pose," said  lie  half  sadly,  when,  the  cere- 
monies over,  ho  had  been  left  to  himself  for 
just  ten  minutes,  to  put  off  his  boy's  clothes 
and  be  reattired  in  magnificent  robes,  be- 
fore he  was  conveyed  away  from  his  tower 
to  the  royal  palace. 

lie  could  take  nothing  with  him  ;  indeed, 
he  soon  saw  that,  however  politely  they 
spoke,  they  would  not  allow  him  to  take 
any  thing.  If  he  was  to  be  their  king,  he 
must  give  up  his  old  life  forever.  So  he 
looked  with  tender  farewell  on  his  old 
books,  old  toys,  the  furniture  he  knew  so 
well,  and  the  familiar  plain  in  all  its  level- 
ness — ugly  yet  pleasant,  simply  because  it 
was  familiar. 

"  It  will  be  a  new  life  in  a  new  world," 
said  he  to  himself;  "but  I'll  remember  the 
old  things  still.  And,  oh  !  if  before  I  go  I 
could  but  once  see  my  dear  old  godmother." 

13 


194 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


"While  he  spoke  he  had  laid  himself  down 
on  the  bed  for  a  minute  or  two,  rather  tired 
with  his  grandeur,  and  confused  by  the  noise 
of  the  trumpets  which  kept  playing  inces- 
santly down  below.  He  gazed,  half  sadly, 
up  to  the  sky-light,  whence  there  came  pour- 
ing a  stream  of  sun-rays,  with  innumerable 
motes  floating  there,  like  a  bridge  thrown 
between  heaven  and  earth.  Sliding  down 
it,  as  if  she  had  been  made  of  air,  came  the 
little  old  woman  in  gray. 

So  beautiful  looked  she — old  as  she  was 
— that  Prince  Dolor  was  at  first  quite 
startled  by  the  apparition.  Then  he  held 
out  his  arms  in  eager  delight. 

"  Oh,  godmother,  you  have  not  forsaken 
me!" 

"  Not  at  all,  my  son.  You  may  not  have 
seen  me,  but  I  have  seen  you  many  a  time." 

"How?" 

"  Oh,  never  mind.     I  can  turn  into  any 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


195 


thing  I  please,  you  know.  And  I  have 
been  a  bearskin  rug,  and  a  crystal  goblet — 
and  sometimes  I  have  changed  from  inani- 
mate to  animate  nature,  put  on  feathers,  and 
made  myself  very  comfortable  as  a  bird." 

"Ha!"  laughed  the  Prince,  a  new  light 
breaking  in  upon  him,  as  he  caught  the 
infection  of  her  tone,  lively  and  mischievous. 
"  Ha,  ha  !  a  lark,  for  instance  ?" 

"  Or  a  magpie,"  answered  she,  with  a 
capital  imitation  of  Mistress  Mag's  croaky 
voice.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  am  always 
sentimental,  and  never  funny?  If  any 
thing  makes  you  happy,  gay,  or  grave,  don't 
you  think  it  is  more  than  likely  to  come 
through  your  old  godmother  ?" 

"  I  believe  that,"  said  the  boy  tenderly, 
holding  out  his  arms.  They  clasped  one 
another  in  a  close  embrace. 

Suddenly  Prince  Dolor  looked  very  anx- 
ious.    "  You  will  not  leave  me,  now  that  I 


196 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


am  a  king  ?  Otherwise  I  had  rather  not  be 
a  king  at  all.  Promise  never  to  forsake 
me!" 

The  little  old  woman  laughed  gayly. 
"  Forsake  you  ?  that  is  impossible.  But  it 
is  just  possible  you  may  forsake  me.  ISTot 
probable,  though.  Your  mother  never  did, 
and  she  was  a  queen.  The  sweetest  queen 
in  all  the  world  was  the  Lady  Dolorez." 

"  Tell  me  about  her,"  said  the  boy  eagerly. 
"  As  I  get  older  I  think  I  can  understand 
more.     Do  tell  me." 

"  Not  now.  You  couldn't  hear  me  for 
the  trumpets  and  the  shouting.  But  when 
you  are  come  to  the  palace,  ask  for  a  long- 
closed  upper  room,  which  looks  out  upon 
the  Beautiful  Mountains ;  open  it  and  take 
it  for  your  own.  Whenever  you  go  there 
you  will  always  find  me,  and  we  will  talk 
together  about  all  sorts  of  things." 

"  And  about  my  mother?" 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


197 


The  little  old  woman  nodded — and  kept 
nodding  and  smiling  to  herself  many  times, 
as  the  boy  repeated  over  and  over  again  the 
sweet  words  he  had  never  known  or  under- 
stood— "  my  mother — my  mother." 

"  Now  I  must  go,"  said  she,  as  the  trum- 
pets blared  louder  and  louder,  and  the 
shouts  of  the  people  showed  that  they 
would  not  endure  any  delay.  "  Good-by, 
Good-by !     Open    the    window   and   out   I 

Prince  Dolor  repeated  gayly  the  musical 
rhyme — but  all  the  while  tried  to  hold  his 
godmother  fast. 

Vain,  vain  !  for  the  moment  that  a  knock- 
ing was  heard  at  his  door  the  sun  went  be- 
hind a  eloud,  the  bright  stream  of  dancing 
motes  vanished,  and  the  little  old  woman 
with  them — he  knew  not  where. 

So  Prince  Dolor  quitted  his  tower — 
which   he  had  entered  so  mournfully  and 


198 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


ignominiously  as  a  little  helpless  baby  car- 
ried in  the  deaf-mute's  arms — quitted  it  as 
the  great  king  of  Ionian  si  and. 

The  only  thing  he  took  away  with  him 
was  something  so  insignificant  that  none  of 
the  lords,  gentlemen,  and  soldiers  who  es- 
corted him  with  such  triumphant  splendor 
could  possibly  notice  it — a  tiny  bundle, 
which  he  had  found  lying  on  the  floor  just 
where  the  bridge  of  sunbeams  had  rested. 
At  once  he  had  pounced  upon  it,  and  thrust 
it  secretly  into  his  bosom,  where  it  dwindled 
into  such  small  proportions  that  it  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  mere  chest-comforter, 
a  bit  of  flannel,. or  an  old  pocket-handker- 
chief. 

It  was  his  traveling-cloak ! 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


190 


CHAPTER   X. 


Did  Prinee  Dolor  become  a  great  king  ? 
Was  he,  though  little  more  than  a  boy,  "  the 
father  of  his  people,"  as  all  kings  ought  to 
be  ?  Did  his  reign  last  long — long  and 
happy  ?  and  what  were  the  principal  events 
of  it,  as  chronicled  in  the  history  of  No- 
mansland  ? 

Why,  if  I  were  to  answer  all  these  ques- 
tions I  should  have  to  write  another  book. 
And  I'm  tired,  children,  tired — as  grown-up 
people  sometimes  are,  though  not  always 
with  play.  (Besides,  I  have  a  small  person 
belonging  to  me,  who,  though  she  likes  ex- 
tremely to  listen  to  the  word-of-mouth  story 
of  this  book,  grumbles  much  at  the  writing 
of  it,  and  has  run  about  the  house  clapping 
her  hands  with  joy  when  mamma  told  her 


gfBs 

Ip^^Vy* 

200 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


that  it  was  nearly  finished.  But  that  is 
neither  here  nor  there.) 

I  have  related,  as  well  as  I  could,  the  his- 
tory of  Prince  Dolor,  but  with  the  history 
of  Nomansland  I  am  as  yet  unacquainted. 
If  any  body  knows  it,  perhaps  he  or  she  will 
kindly  write  it  all  down  in  another  book. 
But  mine  is  done. 

However,  of  this  I  am  sure,  that  Prince 
Dolor  made  an  excellent  king.  Nobody 
ever  does  any  thing  less  well,  not  even  the 
commonest  duty  of  common  daily  life,  for 
having  such  a  godmother  as  the  little  old 
woman  clothed  in  gray,  whose  name  is — 
well,  I  leave  you  to  guess.  Nor,  I  think,  is 
any  body  less  good,  less  capable  of  both 
work  and  enjoyment  in  after-life,  for  having 
been  a  little  unhappy  in  his  youth,  as  the 
Prince  had  been. 

I  can  not  take  upon  myself  to  say  that  he 
was  always  happy  now — who  is  ? — or  that 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


201 


l'"^-// 


he  had  no  cares;  just  show  me  the  person 
who  is  quite  free  from  them  !  But  when- 
ever people  worried  and  bothered  him — as 
they  did  sometimes,  with  state  etiquette, 
state  squabbles,  and  the  like,  setting  up 
themselves  and  pulling  down  their  neigh- 
bors— he  would  take  refuge  in  that  upper 
room  which  looked  out  on  the  Beautiful 
Mountains,  and,  laying  his  head  on  his 
godmother's  shoulder,  become  calmed  and 
at  rest. 

Also,  she  helped  him  out  of  any  difficulty 
which  now  and  then  occurred — for  there 
never  was  such  a  wise  old  woman.  When 
the  people  of  ISTomansland  raised  the  alarm 
— as  sometimes  they  did — for  what  people 
can  exist  without  a  little  fault-finding? — 
and  began  to  cry  out,  "  Unhappy  is  the  na- 
tion whose  king  is  a  child,"  she  would  say 
to  him  gently,  "  You  are  a  child.  Accept 
the  fact.     Be  humble — be  teachable.     Lean 


202 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


upon  the  wisdom  of  others  till  you  have 
■',|    gained  your  own." 

He  did  so.  He  learned  how  to  take  ad- 
vice before  attempting  to  give  it,  to  obey 
before  he  could  righteously  command.  He 
assembled  round  him  all  the  good  and  wise 
of  his  kingdom — laid  all  its  affairs  before 
them,  and  was  guided  by  their  opinions 
until  he  had  maturely  formed  his  own. 

This  he  did  sooner  than  any  body  would 
have  imagined  who  did  not  know  of  his 
godmother  and  his  traveling-cloak — two 
secret  blessings,  which,  though  many 
guessed  at,  nobody  quite  understood.  Nor 
did  they  understand  why  he  loved  so  the 
little  upper  room,  except  that  it  had  been 
his  mother's  room,  from  the  window  of 
which,  as  people  remembered  now,  she  had 
used  to  sit  for  hours  watching  the  Beautiful 
Mountains. 

Out  of  that  window  he  used  to  fly — not 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


203 


very  often;  as  ho  grew  older,  the  labors  of 
state  prevented  the  frequent  use  of  his 
traveling-cloak;  still  he  did  use  it  some- 
times. Only  now  it  was  less  for  his  own 
pleasure  and  amusement  than  to  see  some- 
thing or  investigate  something  for  the  good 
of  the  country.  But  he  prized  his  god- 
mother's gift  as  dearly  as  ever.  It  was  a 
comfort  to  him  in  all  his  vexations;  an  en- 
hancement of  all  his  joys.  It  made  him 
almost  forget  his  lameness — which  was 
never  cured. 

However,  the  cruel  things  which  had 
been  once  foreboded  of  him  did  not  happen. 
His  misfortune  was  not  such  a  heavy  one 
after  all.  It  proved  to  be  of  much  less  in- 
convenience, even  to  himself,  than  had  been 
feared.  A  council  of  eminent  surgeons  and 
mechanicians  invented  for  him  a  wonderful 
pair  of  crutches,  with  the  help  of  which, 
though   he   never  walked   easily  or   grace- 


204 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


fully,  he  did  manage  to  walk  so  as  to  be  quite 
independent.  And  such  was  the  love  his 
people  bore  him  that  they  never  heard  the 
sound  of  his  crutches  on  the  marble  palace- 
floors  without  a  leap  of  the  heart,  for  they 
knew  that  good  was  coming  to  them  when- 
ever he  approached  them. 

Thus,  though  he  never  walked  in  proces- 
sions, never  reviewed  his  troops  mounted 
on  a  magnificent  charger,  nor  did  any  of  the 
tilings  which  make  a  show  monarch  so 
much  appreciated,  he  Avas  able  for  all  the 
duties  and  a  great  many  of  the  pleasures  of 
his  rank.  When  he  held  his  levees,  not 
standing,  but  seated  on  a  throne  ingeni- 
ously contrived  to  hide  his  infirmity,  the 
people  thronged  to  greet  him ;  when  he 
drove  out  through  the  city  streets,  shouts 
followed  him  wherever  he  went — every 
countenance  brightened  as  he  passed,  and 
his  own,  perhaps,  was  the  brightest  of  all. 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


20i 


First,  because,  accepting  his  affliction  as 
inevitable,  lie  took  it  patiently;  second, 
because,  being  a  brave  man,  he  bore  it 
bravely,  trying  to  forget  himself,  and  live 
out  of  himself,  and  in  and  for  other  people. 
Therefore  other  people  grew  to  love  him  so 
well  that  I  think  hundreds  of  his  subjects 
might  have  been  found  who  were  almost 
ready  to  die  for  their  poor  lame  King. 

He  never  gave  them  a  queen.  When 
they  implored  him  to  choose  one,  he  replied 
that  his  country  was  his  bride,  and  he  de- 
sired no  other.  But,  perhaps,  the  real  reason 
was  that  he  shrank  from  any  change ;  and 
that  no  wife  in  all  the  world  would  have 
been  found  so  perfect,  so  lovable,  so  tender 
to  him  in  all  his  weaknesses,  as  his  beautiful 
old  godmother. 

His  four-and-twenty  other  godfathers  and 
godmothers,  or  as  many  of  them  as  were 
still  alive,  crowded  around  him  as  soon  as 


206 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


he  ascended  the  throne.  He  was  very  civil 
to  them  all,  but  adopted  none  of  the  names 
they  had  given  him,  keeping  to  the  one  by 
which  he  had  been  always  known,  though 
it  had  now  almost  lost  its  meaning ;  for 
King  Dolor  was  one  of  the  happiest  and 
cheerfulest  men  alive. 

He  did  a  good  many  things,  however,  un- 
like most  men  and  most  kings,  which  a  little 
astonished  his  subjects.  First,  he  pardoned 
the  condemned  woman  who  had  been  his 
nurse,  and  ordained  that  from  henceforward 
there  should  be  no  such  thing  as  the  punish- 
ment of  death  in  JSTomansland.  All  capital 
criminals  were  to  be  sent  to  perpetual  im- 
prisonment in  Hopeless  Tower  and  the  plain 
round  about  it,  where  they  could  do  no 
harm  to  any  body,  and  might  in  time  do  a 
little  good,  as  the  woman  had  done. 

Another  surprise  he  shortly  afterward 
gave  the  nation.     He  recalled  his   uncle's 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


207 


family,  who  had  fled  away  in  terror  to 
another  country,  and  restored  them  to  all 
their  honors  in  their  own.  By  and  by  he 
chose  the  eldest  son  of  his  eldest  cousin 
(who  had  been  dead  a  year),  and  had  him 
educated  in  the  royal  palace,  as  the  heir  to 
the  throne.  This  little  prince  was  a  quiet, 
unobtrusive  boy,  so  that  every  body  won- 
dered at  the  King's  choosing  him  when 
there  were  so  many  more;  but  as  he  grew 
into  a  fine  young  fellow,  good  and  brave, 
thry  agreed  that  the  King  judged  more 
wisely  than  they. 

"Not  a  lame  prince,  either,"  his  Majesty 
observed  one  day,  watching  him  affection-' 
ately ;  for  he  was  the  best  runner,  the  high- 
est leaper,  the  keenest  and  most  active 
sportsman  in  the  country.  "  One  can  not 
make  one's  self,  but  one  can  sometimes  help 
a  little  in  the  making  of  somebody  else.  It 
is  well." 


208 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


This  was  said,  not  to  any  of  Lis  great 
lords  and  ladies,  but  to  a  good  old  woman — 
his  first  homely  nurse — whom  he  had  sought 
for  far  and  wide,  and  at  last  found  in  her 
cottage  among  the  Beautiful  Mountains. 
lie  sent  for  her  to  visit  him  once  a  year, 
and  treated  her  with  great  honor  until  she 
died.  He  was  equally  kind,  though  some- 
what less  tender,  to  his  other  nurse,  who, 
after  receiving  her  pardon,  returned  to  her 
native  town  and  grew  into  a  great  lady,  and 
I  hope  a  good  one.  But  as  she  was  so 
grand  a  personage  now,  any  little  faults  she 
had  did  not  show. 

Thus  King  Dolor's  reign  passed,  year 
after  year,  long  and  prosperous.  Whether 
he  were  happy — "  as  happy  as  a  king" — is 
a  question  no  human  being  can  decide. 
But  I  think  he  was,  because  he  had  the 
power  of  making  every  body  about  him 
happy,  and  did  it  too ;  also  because  he  was 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


200 


his  godmother's  godson,  and  could  shut 
himself  up  with  her  whenever  he  liked,  in 
that  quiet  little  room  in  view  of  the  Beauti- 
ful Mountains,  which  nobody  else  ever  saw 
or  cared  to  see.  They  were  too  far  off,  and 
the  city  lay  so  low.  But  there  they  were, 
all  the  time.  No  change  ever  came  to 
them ;  and  I  think,  at  any  day  throughout 
his  long  reign,  the  King  would  sooner  have 
lost  his  crown  than  have  lost  sight  of  the 
Beautiful  Mountains. 

In  course  of  time,  when  the  little  Prince, 
his  cousin,  was  grown  into  a  tall  young 
man,  capable  of  all  the  duties  of  a  man,  his 
Majesty  did  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
acts  ever  known  in  a  sovereign  beloved  by 
his  people  and  prosperous  in  his  reign.  He 
announced  that  he  wished  to  invest  his  heir 
with  the  royal  purple — at  any  rate,  for  a  time 
— while  he  himself  went  away  on  a  distant 

journey,  whither  he  had  long  desired  to  go. 
14 


210 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


Every  body  marveled,  but  nobody  op- 
posed him.  Who  could  oppose  the  good 
King,  who  was  not  a  young  king  now  ? 
And  besides,  the  nation  had  a  great  ad- 
miration for  the  young  Regent — and,  pos- 
sibly, a  lurking  pleasure  in  change. 

So  there  was  fixed  a  day  when  all  the 
people  whom  it  would  hold  assembled  in 
the  great  square  of  the  capital,  to  see  the 
young  Prince  installed  solemnly  in  his  new 
duties,  and  undertaking  his  new  vows.  He 
was  a  very  fine  young  fellow :  tall  and 
straight  as  a  poplar-tree,  with  a  frank,  hand- 
some face — a  great  deal  handsomer  than 
the  King,  some  people  said,  but  others 
thought  differently.  However,  as  his  Ma- 
jesty sat  on  his  throne,  with  his  gray  hair 
falling  from  underneath  his  crown,  and  a 
few  wrinkles  showing  in  spite  of  his  smile, 
there  was  something  about  his  countenance 
which    made  his  people,   even  while  they 


"He  lifted  up  his  thin,  slender  hand." 


(211) 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


213 


shouted,  regard  him  with  a  tenderness  mixed 
with  awe.  lie  lifted  up  his  thin,  slender  hand, 
and  there  came  a  silence  over  the  vast  crowd 
immediately.  Then  he  spoke,  in  his  own 
accustomed  way,  using  no  grand  words,  but 
saying  what  he  had  to  say  in  the  simplest 
fashion,  though  with  a  clearness  that  struck 
their  ears  like  the  first  song  of  a  bird  in  the 
dusk  of  the  morning. 

"  My  people,  I  am  tired :  I  want  to  rest. 
I  have  had  a  long  reign,  and  done  much 
work — at  least,  as  much  as  I  was  able  to 
do.  Many  might  have  done  it  better  than 
I — but  none  with  a  better  will.  Now  I 
leave  it  to  others ;  I  am  tired,  very  tired. 
Let  me  go  home." 

There  arose  a  murmur — of  content  or  dis- 
content none  could  well  tell;  then  it  died 
down  again,  and  the  assembly  listened 
silently  once  more. 

"  I  am  not  anxious  about  you,  my  people 


214 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


— my  children,"  continued  the  King.  "You 
are  prosperous  and  at  peace.  I  leave  you 
in  good  hands.  The  Prince  Regent  will  be 
a  fitter  king  for  you  than  I." 

"  No,  no,  no  !"  rose  the  universal  shout — 
and  those  who  had  sometimes  found  fault 
with  him  shouted  louder  than  any  body. 
But  he  seemed  as  if  he  heard  them  not. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  the  tumult 
had  a  little  subsided  :  and  his  voice  sounded 
firm  and  clear ;  and  some  very  old  people, 
who  boasted  of  having  seen  him  as  a  child, 
declared  that  his  face  took  a  sudden  change, 
and  grew  as  young  and  sweet  as  that  of  the 
little  Prince  Dolor.  "  Yes,  I  must  go.  It 
is  time  for  me  to  go.  Remember  me  some- 
times, my  people,  for  I  have  loved  you  well. 
And  I  am  going  a  long  way,  and  I  do  not 
think  I  shall  come  back  any  more." 

He  drew  a  little  bundle  out  of  his  breast 
pocket — a   bundle   that   nobody   had    ever 


v<  ** 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


215 


seen  before.  It  was  small  and  shabby- 
looking,  and  tied  up  with  many  knots, 
which  untied  themselves  in  an  instant. 
With  a  joyful  countenance,  he  muttered 
over  it  a  few  half-intelligible  words.  Then, 
so  suddenly  that  even  those  nearest  to  his 
Majesty  could  not  tell  how  it  came  about, 
the  King  was  away — away — floating  right 
up  in  the  air — upon  something,  they  knew 
not  what,  except  that  it  appeared  to  be  as 
safe  and  pleasant  as  the  wings  of  a  bird. 

And  after  him  sprang  a  bird — a  dear  little 
lark,  rising  from  whence  no  one  could  say, 
since  larks  do  not  usually  build  their  nests 
in  the  pavement  of  city  squares.  But  there 
it  was,  a  real  lark,  singing  far  over  their 
heads,  louder  and  clearer,  and  more  joyful 
as  it  vanished  further  into  the  blue  sky. 

Shading  their  eyes,  and  straining  their 
ears,  the  astonished  people  stood  until  the 
whole  vision  disappeared  like  a  speck  in  the 


216 


The  Little  Lame  Prince. 


clouds — the  rosy  clouds  that  overhung  the 
Beautiful  Mountains.  Then  they  guessed  that 
they  should  see  their  beloved  King  no  more. 
Well-beloved  as  he  was,  he  had  always  been 
somewhat  of  a  mystery  to  them,  and  such  he 
remained.  But  they  went  home,  and,  accept- 
ing their  new  monarch,  obeyed  him  faithfully 
for  his  cousin's  sake.  King  Dolor  was  never 
again  beheld  or  heard  of  in  his  country.  But 
the  good  he  had  done  there  lasted  for  years ; 
he  was  long  missed  and  deeply  mourned — 
at  least,  so  far  as  any  body  could  mourn 
one  who  was  gone  on  such  a  happy  journey. 

Whither  he  went,  or  who  went  with  him, 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  But  I  myself  believe 
that  his  godmother  took  him  on  his  travel- 
ing-cloak to  the  Beautiful  Mountains.  What 
he  did  there,  orwhere  he  is  now,  who  can  tell? 
I  can  not.  But  one  thing  I  am  quite  sure  of, 
that,  wherever  he  is,  he  is  perfectly  happy. 

And  so,  when  I  think  of  him,  am  I. 


GALOPOFF,  THE  TALKING   PONY 

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STEPHEN,  A  SOLDIER  OF  THE  CROSS 

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attainments  shown  in  the  fields  of  education,  of  discovery, 
of  invention,  of  literature,  of  a^t  and  science  are  wonderful 
and  unprecedented. 

This  volume  enables  every  boy  and  girl  to  make  them- 
selves familiar  with  the  leading  facts  in  our  history  from  the 
discovery  of  America  to  the  present  time.  It  will  make 
them,  if  possible,  more  patriotic,  and  w'll  stimulate  an 
interest  in  deeper  historical  study. 

The  full  text  of  the  Constitution  of  '.ne  United  States  and 
tables  of  the  Presidents  are  given  ;  also  the  area  and  popu- 
lation cf  each  state  and  territory,  with  the  derivation  of  its 
name  and  the  date  of  its  admission  into  the  Union.  These, 
with  an  exhaustive  index,  round  out  the  volume  to  generous 
proportions. 

I2mo,  cloth,  ornamental,  38O   pages,    164   illustrations.  $1.00. 


J1LTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED 

YOUNG   PEOPLE'S   HISTORY 

OF    ENGLAND    &    0    &    0 

By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 


No  history  can  be  more  absorbing  and  instructive  to 
youths  and  adults  than  the  History  of  England,  and  the 
aim  of  this  volume  is  to  enable  them  to  easily  acquire  a 
knowledge  of  the  leading  facts  in  the  building  of  the 
stupendous  British  Empire,  whose  full  history,  teeming 
with  mighty  events  and  spanning  twenty  centuries,  re- 
quires volumes  for  the  telling. 

It  is  not  intended  that  this  shall  take  the  place  of  the 
larger  works — Hume,  Macaulay,  Freeman,  Froude,  and 
others — but  instead  to  note  the  towering  landmarks  which 
mark  the  sweep  of  the  empire  along  the  road  of  discovery, 
conquest,  progress,  development,  civilization,  learning,  art, 
literature,  science  and  Christianity.  Yet,  it  is  a  comprehen- 
sive survey  of  the  advancement  of  a  horde  of  wild  savages, 
conquered  by  the  Romans  before  the  Christian  Era,  to  the 
proud  position  of  the  foremost  Christian  Power  of  the  Old 
World,  and  its  perusal  will  arouse  an  interest  that  can  only 
be  satisfied  by  a  deeper  and  more  extended  study  of  the 
Auglo-Saxon  race,  the  dominant  factor  in  the  future  devel- 
opment and  progress  of  the  world. 

Valuable  reference  tables,  showing  a  list  of  the  sovereigns 
of  England,  its  colonies  and  dependencies,  with  dates  and 
modes  of  acquisition,  area,  population,  etc.,  are  incorpor- 
ated into  the  volume. 

I2mo,  cloth,  ornamental,  330   pages,    164   illustrations.  $1.00. 


Henry   Altemus   Company,    Philadelphia 


jiLTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED 

YOUNG   PEOPLE'S    HISTORY 
OF    FRANCE     0     &      0     & 

By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.M. 


At  present  France  appears  to  be  a  republic  ;  she 
has  been  an  aristocracy,  a  monarchy,  an  absolute 
despotism,  and  a  commune.  She  has  been  ruled  by 
savages,  and  by  men  claiming  to  be  civilized,  yet 
who  were  less  worthy  to  rule  than  savages.  Her 
throne  has  been  filled  by  monsters  of  villainy  and 
by  wise  and  good  statesmen.  She  produced  the 
greatest  military  genius  the  world  ever  saw  ;  her 
scholars,  scientists,  discoverers,  philosophers,  poets, 
dramatists,  historians,  novelists,  essayists,  sculptors 
and  painters  have  never  been  surpassed. 

No  nation  has  been  more  humiliated  than  France; 
none  has  been  exalted  to  more  dizzy  heights  of 
glory.  Her  dreams  have  turned  into  realities, 
and  her  realities  have  dissolved  into  visions.  In 
blood  and  flame  she  has  gone  down  to  despair  and 
then  leaped  to  heights  that  have  caused  the  world 
to  wonder. 

France  is  a  wonderful  nation,  and  her  history  is 
instructive,  for  it  includes  every  system  of  govern- 
ment that  the  ingenuity  of  man  can  devise.  It  is 
full  of  warnings,  too,  and  of  instructive  lessons  for 
American  youths,  lessons  of  absorbing  interest  and 
of  amazing  length  and  breadth. 
I2mo,  cloth,  ornamental,  355   pages.   115  illustrations.    #1.00. 


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jiLTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED 

YOUNG    PEOPLE'S   HISTORY 
OF    GERMANY    ®    &    0    & 

By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 

The  long,  varied  and  wonderfully  interesting  his- 
tory of  Germany,  begins  in  the  dim  legends  of  the 
savages  who  roamed  the  wilderness  between  the 
Alps  and  the  Baltic,  and  stretches  across  two 
thousand  years  to  the  German  Empire  of  to-day  and 
its  population  of  more  than  fifty  millions. 

The  record  of  Germany,  now  among  the  foremost 
Powers  of  the  globe,  is  one  of  valiant  achievement 
on  the  battlefield,  of  patient  suffering  under  grind- 
ing tyranny,  of  grim  resolution  and  heroic  en- 
deavor, and  of  grand  triumphs  in  art,  science, 
literature,  diplomacy.  It  is  a  story  of  patriotic 
toil,  sacrifice  and  daring. 

The  story  is  as  instructive  as  impressive  ;  and,  as 
in  former  volumes  in  this  series,  the  author  has 
laboriously  winnowed  the  wheat  from  the  chaff,  and 
has  set  forth  such  leading  facts  as  will  enable  youth- 
ful readers  to  gain  an  intelligent  idea  of  the  chief 
incidents  in  the  history  of  the  German  Empire  from 
the  dawn  of  its  first  authentic  records  to  the  present 
time. 
I2rno    cloth,  ornamental,  320   pages,    115   illustrations.   fi.oc*. 

Henry   Altemus    Company,    Philadelphia 


ALTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED 

YOUNG   PEOPLE'S    HISTORY 
OF   ROME     0     &     0     &     0 

By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 

The  shriveled  Rome  of  to-day  is  but  a  faint  shadow  of  the 
stupendous  empire  whose  mailed  legions  made  the  earth 
tremble  beneath  their  tread;  but  the  story  of  its  grandeur 
can  never  be  lost,  and  shall  influence  mankind  through  all 
ages  to  come.  Its  magnificence  has  never  been  surpassed  ; 
its  heroism  and  sacrifices  have  touched  the  limit  of  human 
endeavor. 

The  story  of  Rome,  the  Imperial  City  ;  Rome,  the  mis- 
tress of  the  world,  ruling  one  hundred  millions  of  people 
from  her  seat  upon  the  Seven  Hills,  is  at  once  a  narrative 
of  human  greatness  and  weakness,  of  heroic  achievement, 
of  virtue  and  crime,  of  progress  and  retrogression,  of  power, 
corruption,  decay,  and  the  crash  of  overwhelming  ruin. 
There  are  dim,  misty  beginnings,  and  then  the  teeming 
centuries  sweep  on,  with  other  nations  trampled  into  the 
dust,  and  the  Roman  cohorts  ground  to  powder  by  them  in 
turn.  The  story  sounds  the  whole  gamut  of  a  nation's 
birth,  youth,  manhood,  old  age,  and  death. 

The  volume  is  not  mere  biography  and  the  records  of 
battles,  for  history  is  more  than  that,  but  in  addition  to 
these  features  it  sets  forth  events  and  their  connections,  the 
influence  of  foreign  conquests,  and  gives,  besides,  a  com- 
prehensive survey  of  the  religion,  manners  and  customs  of 
the  times. 

I2mo,  cloth,  ornamental.  300  pages,  nearly  100    illustrations. 

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J1LTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED 

YOUNG   PEOPLES   HISTORY 
OF   GREECE     j&     &      &     & 

By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 


In  tracing  back  the  development  of  the  present  civilized 
nations,  there  is  an  unbroken  line  by  which  we  reach  the 
Romans.  Still  back  of  them  and  down  their  line,  we  reach 
the  Greeks,  whose  history  forms  one  of  the  most  fascinating 
and  instructive  narratives  in  the  annals  of  mankind. 

We  know  very  little  of  their  early  history,  yet,  by  digging 
deep  into  the  ground  we  find  remains  of  ancient  strongholds 
and  cities  ;  mighty  tombs,  with  not  only  the  dust  of  dead 
warriors  in  them,  but  swords,  ornaments  and  pottery  as 
well  ;  and  from  these  we  can  paint  vague  pictures  of  the 
Mythical  or  Heroic  Age  of  Greece.  At  best  these  are  but 
shadow  pictures,  for  only  here  and  there  do  lines  of  reality 
show  at  all,  but  there  is  a  splendor  about  them  and  a  love- 
liness that  the  world  cannot  afford  to  lose. 

These  men  of  Greece  became  exceedingly  skilled  in  the 
arts.  Famous  painters  and  sculptors  arose  among  them, 
and  mighty  poets  and  teachers  whose  writings  still  remain 
among  the  most  wonderful  ever  produced  by  man. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  catch  the  inspiration  of  the  author 
as  he  traces  the  history  of  this  wonderful  people  from  pre- 
historic to  modern  times. 

I2mo,  cloth,  ornamental,  300  pages,  about   100  illustrations. 

1 1. 00. 


Henry  Altemus  Company,   Philadelphia 


ALTEMUS' 


Young  People's  Library. 


Price,  50  Cents  Each. 


ROBINSON  CRUSOE  :  His  Life  and  Strange  Surprising 
Adventures.  With  70  beautiful  illustrations  by  Walter 
Paget.     Arranged  for  young  readers. 

"Theie  exists  no  work,  either  of  instruction  or  entertainment, 
which  has  been  more  generally  read,  and  universally  admired." 
—  Waiter  Scott. 

ALICE'S  ADVENTURES  IN  WONDERLAND.  With  42 
illustrations  by  John  Tenniel. 

"This  is  Carroll's  immortal  story." — AthentBUm. 
"The  most  delightful  of  children's  stories.     Elegant  and  deli- 
cious nonsense  " — Saturday  Review. 

THROUGH  THE  LOOKING  GLASS  AND  WHAT 
ALICE  FOUND  THERE.  (A  companion  to  Alice  in 
Wonderland.)     With  50  illustrations  by  John  Tenniel. 

"  Not  A  whit  inferior  to  its  predecessor  in  grand  extravagance  of 
imagination,  and  delicious  allegorical  nonsense."  —  Quarterly 
Review. 

BUNYAN'S  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  With  50  full-page 
and  text  illustrations. 

Pilgrim's  Progress  is  the  most  popular  story  book  in  the 
world.  With  the  exception  of  the  Bible  it  has  been  translated  into 
more  languages  than  any  other  book  ever  printed. 

A  CHILD'S  STORY"  OF  THE  BIBLE.  With  72  full-page 
illustrations. 

Tells  in  simple  language  and  in  a  form  fitted  for  the  hands  of 
the  younger  members  of  the  Christian  flock,  the  tale  of  God's 
dealings  with  his  Chosen  People  under  the  Old  Dispensation, 
with  its  foreshadowings  of  the  coming  of  that  Messiah  who  was 
to  make  all  mankind  one  fold  under  one  Shepherd. 


ALTEMUS'  YOUNG    PEOPLE'S   LIBRARY. 


A  CHILD'S  LIFE  OF  CHRIST.     With  49  illustrations. 

God  has  implanted  in  the  infant's  heart  a  desire  to  hear  of  Jesus, 
and  children  are  early  attracted  and  sweetly  riveted  by  the  won- 
derful Story  of  the  Master  from  the  Manger  to  the  Throne. 

In  this  little  book  we  have  brought  together  from  Scripture  every 
incident,  expression  and  description  within  the  verge  of  their  com- 
prehension, in  the  effort  to  weave  them  into  a  memorial  garland  of 
their  Saviour. 

THE  FABLES  OF  vESOP.  Compiled  from  the  best  ac- 
cepted sources.     With  62  illustrations. 

The  fables  of  /Esop  are  among  the  very  earliest  compositions  of 
this  kind,  and  probably  have  never  been  surpassed  for  point  and 
brevity,  as  well  as  for  the  practical  good  sense  they  display.  In 
their  grotesque  grace,  in  their  quaint  humor,  in  their  trust  in  the 
simpler  virtues,  in  their  insight  into  the  cruder  vices,  in  their  inno- 
cence of  the  fact  of  sex,  /Esop's  Fables  are  as  little  children — and 
for  that  reason  will  ever  find  a  home  in  the  heaven  of  little  chil- 
dren's souls. 

THE  SWISS  FAMILY  ROBINSON,  or  the  Adventures  of 
a  Shipwrecked  Family  on  an  Uninhabited  Island.  With 
50  illustrations. 

A  remarkable  tale  of  adventure  that  will  interest  the  boys  and 
girls.  The  father  of  the  family  tells  the  tale  and  the  vicissitudes 
through  which  he  and  his  wife  and  children  pass,  the  wonderful 
discoveries  they  make,  and  the  dangers  they  encounter.  It  is  a 
standard  work  of  adventure  that  has  the  favor  of  all  who  have 
read  it. 

CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS  AND  THE  DISCOVERY 
OF  AMERICA.     With  70  illustrations. 

It  is  the  duty  of  every  American  lad  to  know  the  story  of  Chris- 
topher Columbus.  In  this  book  is  depicted  the  story  of  his  life 
and  struggles ;  of  his  persistent  solicitations  at  the  courts  of  Eu- 
rope, and  his  contemptuous  receptions  by  the  learned  Geographical 
Councils,  until  his  final  employment  by  Queen  Isabella.  Records 
the  day-by-day  journeyings  while  he  was  pursuing  his  aim  and  his 
perilous  way  over  the  shoreless  ocean,  until  he  "  gave  to  Spain  a 
New  World."  Shows  his  progress  through  Spain  on  the  occasion 
of  his  first  return,  when  he  was  received  with  rapturous  demon- 
strations and  more  than  regal  homage.     His  displacement  by  tbo 


AI.TEMUS'  YOUNG   PEOPLE'S   LIBRARY. 


Odjeas,  Ovandos  and  Bobadilas  ;  his  last  return  in  chains,  and  the 
story  of  his  death  in  poverty  and  neglect. 

THE  STORY  OF  EXPLORATION  AND  DISCOVERY 
IN  AFRICA.     With  So  illustrations. 

Records  the  adventures,  privations,  sufferings,  trials,  dangers 
and  discoveries  in  developing  the  "Dark  Continent,"  from  the 
early  days  of  Bruce  and  Mungo  Park  down  to  Livingstone  and 
Stanley  and  the  heroes  of  our  own  times. 

The  reader  becomes  carried  away  by  conflicting  emotions  ol 
wonder  and  sympathy,  and  feels  compelled  to  pursue  the  story, 
which  he  cannot  lay  down.  No  present  can  be  more  acceptable 
than  such  a  volume  as  this,  where  courage,  intrepidity,  resource 
and  devotion  are  so  pleasantly  mingled.  It  is  very  fully  illustra- 
ted with  pictures  worthy  of  the  book. 

GULLIVER'S  TRAVELS  INTO  SOME  REMOTE  RE- 
GIONS OF  THE  WORLD.     With  50  illustrations. 

In  description,  even  of  the  most  common-place  things,  his  power 
is  often  perfectly  marvellous.  Macaulay  says  of  Swift:  "  Under 
a  plain  garb  and  ungainly  deportment  were  concealed  some  of  the 
choicest  gifts  that  ever  have  been  bestowed  on  any  of  the  children 
of  men — rare  powers  of  observation,  brilliant  art,  grotesque  inven- 
tion, humor  of  the  most  austere  flavor,  yet  exquisitely  delicious, 
eloquence  singularly  pure,  manly  and  perspicuous." 

MOTHER  GOOSE'S  RHYMES,  JINGLES  AND  FAIRY 
TALES.     With  300  illustrations. 

"  In  this  edition  an  excellent  choice  has  been  made  from  the 
standard  fiction  of  the  little  ones.    The  abundant  pictures  are  well- 
drawn  and  graceful,  the  effect  frequently  striking  and  always  deco- 
rative."—  Ci-itic. 
■  "  Only  to  see  the  book  is  to  wish  to  give  it  to  every  child  one 

knows."- — Queen. 

LIVES  OF  THE  PRESIDENTS  OF  THE  UNITED 
STATES.  Compiled  from  authoritative  sources.  With 
portraits  of  the  Presidents  ;  and  also  of  the  unsuccessful 
candidates  for  the  office ;  as  well  as  the  ablest  of  the 
Cabinet  officers. 

This  book  should  be  in  every  home  and  school  library.  It  tells, 
in  an  impartial  way,  the  story  of  the  political  history  of  the  United 
States,  from  the  first  Constitutional  convention  to  the  last  Presi» 


ALTEMUS'  YOUNG   PEOPLE'S   LIBRARY. 


dential  nominations,  it  is  just  the  book  for  intelligent  boys,  and  it 
will  help  to  make  them  intelligent  and  patriotic  citizens. 

THE  STORY  OF  ADVENTURE  IN  THE  FROZEN 
SEA.  With  70  illustrations.  Compiled  from  authorized 
sources. 

We  here  have  brought  together  the  records  of  the  attempts  to 
reach  the  North  Pole.  Our  object  being  to  recall  the  stories  of  the 
early  voyagers,  and  to  narrate  the  recent  efforts  of  gallant  adven- 
turers of  various  nationalities  to  cross  the  "  unknown  and  inacces- 
ible  "  threshold  ;  and  to  show  how  much  can  be  accomplished  by 
indomitable  pluck  and  steady  perseverance.  Portraits  and  numer- 
ous illustrations  help  the  narration. 

ILLUSTRATED  NATURAL  HISTORY.  By  the  Rev. 
J.  G.  Wood.     With  80  illustrations. 

Wood's  Natural  History  needs  no  commendation.  Its  author 
has  done  more  than  any  other  writer  to  popularize  the  study.  His 
work  IS  known  and  admired  overall  the  civilized  world.  The  sales 
of  his  work*  in  England  and  America  have  been  enormous.  The 
illustrations  in  this  edition  are  entirely  new,  striking  and  life-like. 

A  CHILD'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  By  Charles 
Dickens.     With  50  illustrations. 

Dickens  grew  tired  of  listening  to  his  children  memorizing  the 
old  fashioned  twaddle  that  went  under  the  name  of  English  his- 
tory. He  thereupon  wrote  a  book,  in  his  own  peculiarly  happy 
style,  primarily  for  the  educational  advantage  of  his  own  children, 
but  was  prevailed  upon  to  publish  the  work,  and  make  its  use  gen- 
eral.    Its  success  was  instantaneous  and  abiding. 

BLACK  BEAUTY;  The  Autobiography  of  a  Horse.  By 
Anna  Sewell.     With  50  illustrations. 

This  new  illustrated  edition  is  sure  to  command  attention. 
Wherever  children  are,  whether  boys  or  girls,  there  this  Autobiog- 
raphy should  be.  It  inculcates  habits  of  kindness  to  all  members 
of  the  animal  creation.  The  literary  merit  of  the  book  is  excellent. 

THE  ARABIAN  NIGHTS'  ENTERTAINMENTS.  With 
50  illustrations.  Contains  the  most  favorably  known  of 
the  stories. 

The  text  is  somewhat  abridged  and  edited  for  the  young.  It 
forms  an  excellent  introduction  to  those  immortal  tales  which  have 
helped  so  long  to  keep  the  weary  world  young. 


ALTEMUS'    YOUNG   PEOPLE'S    LIBRARY 


ANDERSEN'S    FAIRY  TALES.     By  Hans  Christian  An- 
dersen.    With  77  illustrations. 

The  spirit  of  high  moral  teaching,  and  the  delicacy  of  sentiment, 
feeling  and  expression  that  pervade  these  tales  make  these  won- 
derful creations  not  only  attractive  to  the  young,  but  equally  accept- 
able to  those  of  mature  years,  who  are  able  to  understand  their 
real  significance  and  appreciate  the  depth  of  their  meaning. 

GRIMM'S  FAIRY  TALES.     With  50  illustrations. 

These  tales  of  the  Brothers  Grimm  have  carried  their  names  into 
every  household  of  the  civilized  world. 

The  Tales  are  a  wonderful  collection,  as  interesting,  from  j  lit- 
erary point  of  view,  as  they  are  delightful  as  stories. 

GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR;    A  History  for  Youth.     By 
Nathaniel  Hawthorne.     With  60  illustrations. 

The  story  of  America  from  the  landing  of  the  Puritans  to  the 
acknowledgment  -without  reserve  of  the  Independence  of  the 
United  States,  told  with  all  the  elegance,  simplicity,  grace,  clear- 
ness and  force  for  which  Hawthorne  is  conspicuously  noted. 

FLOWER  FABLES.     By  Louisa  May  Alcott.    With  colored 
and  plain  illustrations. 

A  series  of  very  interesting  fairy  tales  by  the  most  charming  of 
American  story-tellers. 

AUNT   MARTHA'S    CORNER   CUPBOARD.     By  Mary 
and  Elizabeth  Kirby.     With  60  illustrations. 

Stories  about  Tea,  Coffee,  Sugar,  Rice  and  Chinaware,  and 
other  accessories  of  the  well-kept  Cupboard.  A  book  full  of  in- 
terest for  all  the  girls  and  many  of  the  boys. 

WATER -BABIES;    A    Fairy  Tale  for  a   Land-Baby.      By 
Charles  Kingsley.     With  94  illustrations. 

"  Come  read  me  my  riddle,  each  good  little  man  ; 
If  you  cannot  read  it,  no  grown-up  folk  can." 

BATTLES  OF  THE  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE.   By 
Prescott  Holmes.     With  70  illustrations. 

A  graphic  and  full  history  of  the  Rebellion  of  the  American  Col- 
onies from  the  yoke  and  oppression  of  England,  with  the  causes 


ALTEMUS'  YOUNG   PEOPLE'S    LIBRARY. 


that  led  thereto,  and  including  an  account  of  the  second  war  with 
Great  Britain,  and  the  War  with  Mexico. 

BATTLES    OF   THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION.      By 
Prescott  Holmes.     With  80  illustrations. 

A  correct  and  impartial  .account  of  the  greatest  civil  war  in  the 
annals  of  history.  Both  of  these  histories  of  American  wars  are 
a  necessary  part  of  the  education  of  all  intelligent  American  boys 
and  girls. 

YOUNG   PEOPLE'S   HISTORY  OF  THE  WAR  WITH 

SPAIN.     By  Prescott  Holmes.     With  89  illustrations. 

This  history  of  our  war  with  Spain,  in  1898,  presents  in  a  plain, 
easy  style  the  splendid  achievements  of  our  army  and  navy,  and 
the  prominent  figures  that  came  into  the  public  view  during  that 
period.  Its  glowing  descriptions,  wealth  of  anecdote,  accuracy  of 
statement  and  profusion  of  illustration  make  it  a  most  desirable 
gift  book  for  young  readers. 

HEROES    OF    THE    UNITED    STATES    NAVY.      By 
Hart  well  James.     With  65  illustrations. 

The  story  of  our  navy  is  one  of  the  most  brilliant  pages  in  the 
world's  history.  The  sketches  and  exploits  contained  in  this  vol- 
ume cover  our  entire  naval  history  from  the  days  of  the  honest, 
rough  sailors  of  Revolutionary  times,  with  their  cutlasses  and 
boarding  pikes,  to  the  brief  war  of  1898,  when  our  superbly  ap- 
pointed warships  destroyed  Spain's  proud  cruisers  by  the  merci- 
less accuracy  of  their  fire. 

MILITARY    HEROES    OF     THE   UNITED     STATES. 

By  Hartwell  James.     With  97  illustrations. 

In  this  volume  the  brave  lives  and  heroic  deeds  of  our  military 
heroes,  from  Paul  Revere  to  Lawton,  are  told  in  the  most  captiva- 
ting manner.  The  material  for  the  work  has  been  gathered  from 
the  North  and  the  South  alike.  The  volume  presents  all  the  im- 
portant facts  in  a  manner  enabling  the  young  people  of  our  united 
and  prosperous  land  to  easily  become  familiar  with  the  command- 
ing figures  that  have  arisen  in  our  military  history. 

UNCLE  TOM'S  CABIN;  or  Life  Among  the  Lowly.     By 
Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe.     With  90  illustrations. 


ALTEMUS*  YOUNG    PEOPLE'S    LIBRARY. 


The  unfailing  interest  in  the  famous  old  story  suggested  the  need 
of  an  edition  specially  prepared  for  young  readers,  and  elaborately 
illustrated.     This  edition  completely  fills  that  want. 

RIP  VAN  WINKLE.     A  LEGEND  OF  THE  HUDSON. 
By  Washington  Irving.      With  46  illustrations. 

In  this  edition  the  passages  illustrated  come  directly  opposite 
their  respective  illustrations. 

A  CHILD'S  GARDEN  OF  VERSES.      By    Robert    Lotus 
Stevenson.      With  120  illustrations. 

The  handsomest  edition  of  these  charming  verses  ever  pub- 
lished. 

ANIMAL  STORIES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE.      With   50 
illustrations. 

The  animals  do  the  talking. 

ROMULUS,    the    Founder   of   Rome.      By  Jacob   Abbott. 
With  49  illustrations. 

In  a  plain  and  connected  narrative,  the  author  tells  the  stories 
of  the  founder  of  Rome  and  his  great  ancestor,  .Eneas.  These 
are  of  necessity  somewhat  legendary  in  character,  but  are  pre- 
sented precisely  as  they  have  come  down  to  us  from  ancient  times. 
They  are  prefaced  by  an  account  of  the  life  and  inventions  of  Cad- 
mus, the  "  Father  of  the  Alphabet,"  as  he  is  often  called. 

CYRUS  THE  GREAT,  the  Founder  of  the  Persian  Empire. 
By  Jacob  Abbott.     With  40  illustrations. 

For  nineteen  hundred  years,  the  story  of  the  founder  of  the  an- 
cient Persian  empire  has  been  read  by  every  generation  of  man- 
kind. The  story  of  the  life  and  actions  of  Cyrus,  as  told  by  the 
author,  presents  vivid  pictures  of  the  magnificence  of  a  monarchy 
that  rose  about  five  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era,  and 
rolled  on  in  undisturbed  magnitude  and  glory  for  many  centuries. 

ADVENTURES   IN   TOYLAND.       By  Edith  King  Hull. 
With  70  illustrations  by  Alice  B.  Woodward. 

The  sayings  and  doings  of  the  dwellers  in  toyland,  related  by 
one  of  them  to  a  dear  little  girl.  It  is  a  delightful  book  for  chil- 
dren, and  admirably  illustrated. 


8  ALTEMUS'  VOUNG    PEOPLE'S    LIBRARY. 

DARIUS  THE  GREAT,  King  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
By  Jacob  Abbott.     With  34  illustrations. 

No  great  exploits  marked  the  career  of  this  monarch,  who  was 
at  one  time  the  absolute  sovereign  of  nearly  one-half  of  the  world. 
He  reached  his  high  position  by  a  stratagem,  and  left  behind  him 
no  strong  impressions  of  personal  character,  yet,  the  history  of  his 
life  and  reign  should  be  read  along  with  those  of  Cyrus,  Csesar, 
Hannibal  and  Alexander. 

XERXES  THE  GREAT,  King  of  Persia.  By  Jacob  Ab- 
bott.    With  39   illustrations. 

For  ages  the  name  of  Xerxes  has  been  associated  in  the  minds 
of  men  with  the  idea  of  the  highest  attainable  human  magnificence 
and  grandeur.  He  was  the  sovereign  of  the  ancient  Persian  em- 
pire at  the  height  of  its  prosperity  and  power.  The  invasion  of 
Greece  by  the  Persian  hordes,  the  battle  of  Thermopylae,  the  burn- 
ing of  Athens,  and  the  defeat  of  the  Persian  galleys  at  Salamis  are 
chapters  of  thrilling  interest. 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  BROWNIE.  By  Miss 
Mulock,  author  of  John  Halifax,  Gentleman,  etc.  With 
18  illustrations. 

One  of  the  best  of  Miss  Murlock's  charming  stories  for  children. 
All  the  situations  are  amusing  and  are  sure  to  please  youthful 
readers. 

ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT,  King  of  Macedon.  By 
Jacob  Abbott.     With  51   illustrations. 

Born  heir  to  the  throne  of  Macedon,  a  country  on  the  confines 
of  Europe  and  Asia,  Alexander  crowded  into  a  brief  career  of 
twelve  years  a  brilliant  series  of  exploits.  The  readers  of  to-day 
will  find  pleasure  and  profit  in  the  history  of  Alexander  the  Great, 
a  potentate  before  whom  ambassadors  and  princes  from  nearly  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth  bowed  in  humility. 

PYRRHUS,  King  of  Epirus.  By  Jacob  Abbott.  With  45 
illustrations. 

The  story  of  Pyrrhus  is  one  of  the  ancient  narratives  which  has 
been  told  and  retold  (of  many  centuries  in  the  literature,  eloquence 
and  poetry  of  all  civilized  nations.  While  possessed  of  extraordi- 
nary ability  as  a  military  leader,  Pyrrhus  actually  accomplished 
Bothing,  but  did  mischief  on  a  gigantic  scale.     He  was  naturally 


ALTEMUS'  YOUNG   PEOPLE'S    LIBRARY. 


of  a  noble  and  generous  spirit,  but  only  succeded  in  perpetrating 
crimes  against  the  peace  and  welfare  of  mankind. 

HANNIBAL,  the  Carthaginian.     By  Jacob  Abbott.     With 
27  illustrations. 

Hannibal's  distinction  as  a  warrior  was  gained  during  the  des- 
perate contests  between  Rome  and  Carthage,  known  as  the  Punic 
wars.  Entering  the  scene  when  his  country  was  engaged  in  peace- 
ful traffic  with  the  various  countries  of  the  known  world,  he  turned 
its  energies  into  military  aggression,  conquest  and  war,  becoming 
himself  one  of  the  greatest  military  heroes  the  world  has  ever 
known. 

MIXED  PICKLES.     By  Mrs.  E.  M.  Field.     With  31  illus- 
trations by  T.  Pym. 

A  remarkably  entertaining  story  for  young  people.  The  reader 
is  introduced  to  a  charming  little  girl  whose  mishaps  while  trying 
to  do  good  are  very  appropriately  termed  "  Mixed  Pickles." 

JULIUS  CAESAR,  the  Roman  Conqueror.     By  Jacob  Ab- 
bott.    With  44  illustrations. 

The  life  and  actions  of  Julius  Caesar  embrace  a  peiiod  in  Roman 
history  beginning  with  the  civil  wars  of  Marius  and  Sylla  and  end- 
ing with  the  tragic  deaih  of  Ccesar  Imperator.  The  work  is  an 
accurate  historical  account  of  the  l.fe  and  times  of  one  of  the  great 
military  figures  in  history,  i  1  fact,  it  is  history  itself,  and  as  such  is 
especially  commended  to  the  readers  of  the  present  generation. 

ALFRED  THE  GREAT,   of  England.      By  Jacob  Abbott. 
With  40  illustrations. 

In  a  certain  sense,  Alfred  appears  in  history  as  the  founder  of 
the  British  monarchy  :  his  predecessors  having  governed  more  like 
savage  chieftains  than  English  kings.  The  work  has  a  special 
value  for  young  readers,  for  the  character  of  Alfred  was  that  of  an 
honest,  conscientious  and  far-seeing  statesman.  The  romantic 
story  of  Godwin  furnishes  the  conclilurng  chapter  of  the  volume, 

WILLIAM  THE   CONQUEROR,  of  England.      By  Jacob 
Abbott.      With  43  illustrations. 

The  life  and  times  of  William  of  Normandy  have  always  been  a 
fruitful  theme  for  the  historian.  War  and  pillage  and  conquest 
were  at  least  a  part  of  the  everyday  business  of  men  iu  both  Eng- 


ALTEMUS*  YOUNG   PEOPLE'S   LIBRARY. 


land  and  France :  and  the  story  of  William  as  told  by  the  author 
of  this  volume  makes  some  of  the  most  fascinating  pages  in  his- 
tory.    It  is  especially  delightful  to  young  readers. 

HERNANDO    CORTEZ,   the   Conqueror   of  Mexico.     By 
Jacob  Abbott.     With  30  illustrations. 

In  this  volume  the  author  gives  vivid  pictures  of  the  wild  and 
adventurous  career  of  Cortez  and  his  companions  in  the  conquest 
of  Mexico.  Many  good  motives  were  united  with  those  of  ques- 
.  tionable  character,  in  the  prosecution  of  his  enterprise,  but  in 
those  days  it  was  a  matter  of  national  ambition  to  enlarge  the 
boundaries  of  nations  and  to  extend  their  commerce  at  any  cost. 
The  career  of  Cortez  is  one  of  absorbing  interest. 

THE  LITTLE  LAME  PRINCE.     By  Miss  Mulock.    With 

24  illustrations. 

The  author  styles  it  "A  Parable  for  Old  and  Young."  It  is  in  her 
happiest  vein  and  delightfully  interesting,  especially  to  youthful 
readers. 

MARY,  QUEEN   OF  SCOTS.     By  Jacob  Abbott.     With 
45  illustrations. 

The  story  of  Mary  Stuart  holds  a  prominent  place  in  the  present 
series  of  historical  narrations.  It  has  had  many  tellings,  for  the 
melancholy  story  of  the  unfortunate  queen  has  always  held  a  high 
place  in  the  estimation  of  successive  generations  of  readers.  Her 
story  is  full  of  romance  and  pathos,  and  the  reader  is  carried  along 
by  conflicting  emotions  of  wonder  and  sympathy. 

QUEEN   ELIZABETH,   of  England.      By  Jacob  Abbott. 
With  49  illustrations. 

In  strong  contrast  to  the  story  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  is  that 
of  Elizabeth,  Queer,  of  England.  They  were  cousins,  yet  im- 
placable foes.  Elizabeth's  reign  was  in  many  ways  a  glorious  one, 
and  her  successes  gained  her  the  applause  of  the  world.  The 
stirring  tales  of  Drake,  Hawkins  and  other  famous  mariners  of 
her  time  have  been  incorporated  into  the  story  of  Elizabeth's  life 
and  reign. 

KING    CHARLES  THE   FIRST,  of  England.     By  Jacob 
Abbott.     With  41  illustrations. 

The  well-known  figures  in  the  stormy  reign  of  Charles  I.  are 
brought  forward  in  this  narrative  of  his  life  and  times.  It  is  his- 
tory told  in  the  most  fascinating  manner,  and  embraces  the  early 


ALTRMUS*  VOVNO   PEOPLE'S   LIBRARY.  II 


HTe  of  Charles  ;  the  court  of  James  I.;  struggles  between  Charles 
and  the  Parliament;  the  Civil  war;  the  trial  and  execution  of  the 
king.  The  narrative  is  impartial  and  holds  the  attention  of  the 
reader. 

KING  CHARLES  THE  SECOND,  of  England.    By  Jacob 
Abbott.      With  38  illustrations. 

Beginning  with  his  infancy,  the  life  of  the  "  Merry  Monarch  " 
is  related  in  the  author's  inimitable  style.  His  reign  was  signal- 
ized by  many  disastrous  events,  besides  those  that  related  to  his 
personal  troubles  and  embarrassments.  There  were  unfortunate 
wars ;  naval  defeats  ;  dangerous  and  disgraceful  plots  and  con- 
spiracies. Trouble  sat  very  lightly  on  the  shoulders  of  Charles  II., 
however,  and  the  cares  of  state  were  easily  forgotten  in  the  society 
of  his  court  and  dogs. 

THE  SLEEPY  KING.     By  Aubrey  Hopwood  and  Seymoui 
Hicks.      With  77  illustrations  by  Maud  Trelawney. 

A  charmingly-told  Fairy  Tale,  full  of  delight  and  entertain- 
ment. The  illustrations  are  original  and  striking,  adding  greatlj 
to  the  interest  of  the  text. 

MARIA  ANTOINETTE,  Queen  of  France.    By  John  S.  G 
Abbott.     With  42  illustrations. 

The  tragedy  of  Maria  Antoinette  is  one  of  the  most  mournful  in 
the  history  of  the  world.  "  Her  beauty  dazzled  the  whole  king- 
dom," says  Lamartine.  Her  lofty  and  unbending  spirit  undei 
unspeakable  indignities  and  atrocities,  enlists  and  holds  the  sympa 
thies  of  the  readers  of  to-day,  as  it  has  donti  in  the  past. 

MADAME  ROLAND,  A  Heroine  of  the  French  Revolution, 
By  Jacob  Abbott.     With  42  illustrations. 

The  French  Revolution  developed  few,  if  any  characters  more 
worthy  of  notice  than  that  of  Madame  Roland.  The  absence  of 
playmates,  in  her  youth,  inspired  her  with  an  insatiate  thirst  for 
knowledge,  and  books  became  her  constant  companions  in  ever)' 
unoccupied  hour.  She  fell  a  martyr  to  the  tyrants  of  the  French 
Revolution,  but  left  behind  her  a  career  full  of  instruction  tha' 
never  fails  to  impress  itself  upon  the  reader. 

JOSEPHINE,  Empress  of  France.    By  Jacob  Abbott    With 
40  illustrations. 


12  ALTEMUS*    YOUNG    PEOPLE'S    LIBRARY. 

Maria  Antoinette  beheld  the  dawn  of  the  French  Revolution  ; 
Madame  Roland  perished  under  the  lurid  glare  of  its  high  noon  ; 
Josephine  saw  it  fade  into  darkness.  She  has  been  called  the 
"  Star  of  Napoleon  ;  "  and  it  is  certain  that  she  added  luster  to 
his  brilliance,  and  that  her  persuasive  influence  was  often  exerted 
to  win  a  friend  or  disarm  an  adversary.  The  lives  of  the  Empress 
Josephine,  of  Maria  Antoinette,  and  of  Madame  Roland  are 
especially  commended  to  young  lady  readers. 

TALES  FROM  SHAKESPEARE.  By  Charles  and  Mary 
Lamb.      With  80  illustrations. 

The  text  is  somewhat  abridged  and  edited  for  young  people,  but 
a  clear  and  definite  outline  of  each  play  is  presented.  Such  episodes 
or  incidental  sketches  of  character  as  are  not  absolutely  necessary 
to  the  development  of  the  tales  are  omitted,  while  the  many  moral 
lessons  that  lie  in  Shakespeare's  plays  and  make  them  valuable  in 
the  training  of  the  young  are  retained.  The  book  is  winning,  help- 
ful and  an  effectual  guide  to  the  ' '  inner  shrine ' '  of  the  great 
dramatist. 

HENRY   ALTEMUS   COMPANY'S   NEW 
PUBLICATIONS. 

ALTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  HIS- 
TORY OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.  By  Edward  S. 
Ellis,  A.  M.  121T10,  cloth,  ornamental,  380  pages,  164 
illustrations,  $1.00. 

It  is  appropriate  that  the  initial  work  of  this  series  should  be  that 
of  our  own  country.  From  a  few  struggling  colonies  strung  along 
the  Atlantic  seaboard,  with  a  population  of  less  than  three  millions, 
it  has  expanded  in  a  little  more  than  a  century  to  an  area  that 
stretches  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  from  the  frozen 
regions  of  the  North  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  with  almost  a  hundred 
million  inhabitants. 

This  volume  enables  every  boy  and  girl  to  make  themselves 
familiar  with  the  leading  facts  in  our  history  from  the  discovery  of 
America  to  the  present  lime.  It  will  make  them,  if  possible,  more 
patriotic,  and  will  stimulate  an  interest  in   deeper  historical  study. 

The  full  text  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  and  tables 
of  the  Presidents  are  given  ;  also  the  area  and  population  of  each 
state  and  territory,  with  the  derivation  of  its  name  and  the  date  of 
its  admission  into  the  Union.  These,  with  an  exhaustive  index, 
round  out  the  volume  to  generous  proportions. 


HENRY    ALTEMUS    COMPANY'S    NEW    FURT.TCATIONS.  IJ 


ALTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  HIS- 
TORY OF  ENGLAND.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 
121110,,  cloth,  ornamental,  330  pages,  164  illustrations, 
$1.00. 

No  history  can  be  more  absorbing  and  instructive  to  youths  and 
adults  than  the  History  of  England,  and  the  aim  of  this  volume  is 
to  enable  them  to  easily  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  leading  facts  in 
the  building  of  the  stupendous  British  Empire,  whose  full  history, 
teeming  with  mighty  events  and  spanning  twenty  centuries,  requires 
volumes  for  the  telling. 

It  is  not  intended  that  this  shall  take  the  place  of  the  larger  works 
— Hume,  Macaulay,  Freeman,  Froude,  and  others — but  instead  to 
note  the  towering  landmarks  which  mark  the  sweep  of  the  empire 
along  the  road  of  discovery,  conquest,  progress,  development, 
civilization,  learning,  art,  literature,  science  and  Christianity.  Yet, 
it  is  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  advancement  of  a  horde  of  wild 
savages,  conquered  by  the  Romans  before  the  Christian  Era,  to  the 
proud  position  of  the  foremost  Christian  Power  of  the  Old  World. 

Valuable  reference  tables,  showing  a  list  of  the  sovereigns  of 
England,  its  colonies  and  dependencies,  with  dates  and  modes  of 
acquisition,  area,  population,  etc.,  are  incorporated  into  the  volume. 

ALTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  HIS- 
TORY OF  FRANCE.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 
121110,  cloth,  ornamental,  355  pages,  115  illustrations, 
#1.00. 

France  is  a  wonderful  nation,  and  her  history  is  instructive,  for 
it  includes  every  system  of  government  that  the  ingenuity  of  man 
can  devise.  It  is  full  of  warnings,  too,  and  of  instructive  lessons 
for  American  youths,  lessons  of  absorbing  interest  and  of  amazing 
length  and  breadth, 

ALTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  HIS- 
TORY OF  GERMANY.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 
l2mo,  cloth,  ornamental,  320  pages,  115  illustrations, 
$1.00. 

The  record  of  Germany,  now  among  the  foremost  Powers  of  the 
globe,  is  one  of  valiant  achievement  on  the  battlefield,  of  patient 
suffering  under  grinding  tyranny,  of  grim  resolution  and  heroic 
endeavor,  and  of  grand  triumphs  in  art,  science,  literature,  diplo- 
macy.    It  is  a  story  of  patriotic  toil,  sacrifice  and  daring. 


14  HENRY   ALTEMUS   COMPANY'S   NEW    PUBLICATIONS. 

ALTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  HIS- 
TORY OF  ROME.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 
i2mo.,  cloth,  ornamental,  300  pages,  100  illustrations, 
$1.00. 

The  shriveled  Rome  of  to-day  is  but  a  faint  shadow  of  the  stu- 
pendous empire  whose  mailed  legions  made  the  earth  tremble  be- 
neath their  tread;  but  the  story  of  its  grandeur  can  never  be  lost, 
and  shall  influence  mankind  through  all  ages  to  come.  Its  mag- 
nificence has  never  been  surpassed;  its  heroism  and  sacrifices 
have  touched  the  limit  of  human  endeavor. 

ALTEMUS'  ILLUSTRATED  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  HIS- 
TORY OF  GREECE.  By  Edward  S.  Ellis,  A.  M. 
121110,,  cloth,  ornamental,  300  pages,   100  illustrations, 

$1.00. 

We  know  very  little  of  the  early  history  of  the  Greeks ;  yet,  by 
digging  deep  into  the  ground,  we  find  remains  of  ancient  strong- 
holds and  cities ;  mighty  tombs,  with  not  only  the  dust  of  dead 
warriors  in  them,  but  swords,  ornaments  and  pottery  as  well ;  and 
from  these  we  can  paint  vague  pictures  of  the  Mythical  or  Heroic 
Age  of  Greece. 

GALOPOFF,  THE  TALKING  PONY.  By  Tudor  Jenks, 
author  of  "  Imaginotions,"  "The  Century  World's  Fair 
Book,"  "The  Boys'  Book  of  Exploration,"  etc.,  etc. 
Pictures  by  Howard  R.  Cort.      i2mo,  cloth,  244  pages, 

$1.00. 

A  story  for  young  folks,  told  in  the  captivating  style  that  has 
made  Mr.  Jenks'  name  a  household  word  wherever  there  are  Eng- 
lish-speaking boys  and  girls.  The  book  is  delightful  reading  ;  as 
enjoyable  as  "  Black  Beauty,"  or  "Alice  in  Wonderland." 

CAPS  AND  CAPERS.  By  Gabrielle  E.  Jackson,  author  of 
"Pretty  Polly  Perkins,"  "  Denise  and  Ned  Toodles," 
"By  Love's  Sweet  Rule,"  etc.,  etc.  Pictures  by  C.  M. 
Relyea.     i2mo,  cloth,  292  pages,  $1.00. 

A  story  of  boarding-school  life,  far  above  the  average  of  such 
stories.  Toinette  Reeve,  who  has  scarcely  known  the  influence  of 
a  happy  home  or  tender  mother's  love,  is  taken  from  a  school  where 


HENRY   ALTEMUS   COMPANY'S    NEW    PUBLICATIONS.  15 

the  possession  of  money  atones  for  shortcomings  in  character,  and 
is  placed  with  sensible,  loving  instructors  who  arc  not  one  whit  be- 
hind their  charges  in  the  spirit  of  good  fellowship. 

THE  LITTLE  LADY— HER  BOOK.  By  Albert  Bigelow 
Paine,  author  of  "The  Hollow  Tree,"  "The  Deep 
Woods,"  "The  Arkansaw  Bear,"  etc.,  etc.  Pictures  by 
Mabel  L.  Humphrey,  Louise  L.  Heustis  and  others. 
121110,  cloth,  315  pages,  $1.00. 

The  Little  Lady,  who  lives  with  the  Big  Man  and  the  Little 
Woman  in  the  House  of  Many  Windows,  is  a  dainty  little  girl  to 
whom  the  Big  Man  tells  stories  and  sings  songs  ;  just  such  stories 
and  songs  as  children  love.  Then  there  are  walks  and  excursions 
and  many  adventures,  which  the  Little  Woman  shares  with  them. 

TOMMY  FOSTER'S  ADVENTURES.  By  Fred  A.  Ober, 
author  of  "The  Silver  City,"  "Montezuma's  Gold 
Mines,"  "Crusoe's  Island,"  "  The  Knockabout  Club 
Books,"  etc.,  etc.  Pictures  by  Stanley  M.  Arthur. 
1 21110,  cloth,  248  pages,  $1.00. 

It  is  worth  while  for  boys  to  read  such  a  book  as  this,  and  girls, 
too,  for  that  matter.  Tommy  is  a  sturdy  American  boy  who  has  a 
glorious  time  in  the  Southwest  among  the  Navajo,  Zuni,  Moqui 
and  Pueblo  Indians.  Boylike,  he  gets  into  a  "scrape,"  but  a 
young  Indian  becomes  his  friend  and  later  shares  his  adventures. 
The  author  has  lived  among  the  scenes  he  describes;  and  there  is 
plenty  of  fun  and  incident. 

FOLLY  IN  FAIRYLAND.  By  Carolyn  Wells,  author  of 
"Story  of  Betty,"  "Idle  Idyls',"  "The  Merry  Go 
Round,"  "  At  the  Sign  of  the  Sphinx,"  etc.,  etc.  Pictures 
by  Wallace  Morgan.      121110,  cloth,  260  pages,  $1.00. 

If  a  little  girl  or  boy  who  loves  fairies  (and  what  child  doesn't  ?) 
wants  to  go  to  Fairyland,  and  find  out  how  they  live  there,  what 
their  houses  are  like,  and  what  they  do  to  amuse  themselves,  just 
read  this  book  and  be  transported  into  the  very  heart  of  Fairyland 
itself.  Every  well-known  personage  of  nursery  lore  eagerly  helped 
to  make  Folly's  trip  to  Fairyland  a  success,  and  this  delightful 
matter,  told  in  Miss  Wells'  own  crisp  and  original  manner,  with 
frequent  interspersions  of  her  rhythmical,  jingly  rhymes,  goes  to 
make  up  the  gayest,  jolliest  child's  book  of  the  season. 


HENRY    ALTEMUS    COMPANY'S    NEW    PUBLICATIONS. 


FOLLY  IN  THE  FOREST.  By  Carolyn  Wells,  author  of 
"  Folly  in  Fairyland,"  etc.  Pictures  by  Reginald  B. 
Birch.      i2mo,  cloth,  282  pages,  $1.00. 

Regarded  by  many  as  Miss  Weds'  best  work.  In  this  charming 
volume  Folly  meets  and  talks  with  the  famous  animals  and  birds 
of  Mythology,  History  and  Literature. 

;/PSY,  THE  TALKING  DOG.  By  Tudor  Jenks,  author 
of  "  Galopoff,  the  Talking  Pony,"  etc.  Pictures  by 
Reginald  B.  Birch.      i2tno,  cloth,  $1.00. 

If  Gypsy,  the  talking  dog,  had  not  met  Galopoff,  the  talking 
pony,  this  story  could  not  have  been  written,  and  boys  and  girls 
everywhere  would  have  lost  a  most  enjoyable  book. 

DOUGHNUTS  AND  DIPLOMAS.  By  Gabrielle  E.  Jack- 
son, author  of  "Caps  and  Capers,"  etc.  Pictures  by 
C.  M.  Relyea.      i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

All  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  books  are  delightful  reading,  especially  for 
girls,  and  this  volume,  with  its  determined  and  purposeful,  yet 
lovable,  heroine  is  no  exception  to  the  rule. 

FOR  PREY  AND  SPOILS;  OR,  THE  BOY  BUCCANEER. 
By  Fred.  A.  Ober,  author  of  "Tommy  Foster's  Adven- 
tures," etc.     Fully  illustrated.     121110,  cloth,  $1.00. 

Mr.  Ober  is  the  best  authority  on  Spanish-America  we  have, 
and  a  story  of  pirates  and  their  haunts  could  not  be  in  better 
hands.  This,  his  latest  story,  is  at  once  thrilling,  humorous  and 
instructive. 

RATAPLAN.  A  ROGUE  ELEPHANT,  AND  OTHER 
STORIES.  By  Ellen  Velvin,  F.  Z.  S.,  author  of  "Tales 
Told  at  the  Zoo,"  "Jack's  Visit,"  etc.  Illustrations 
in  color  by  Gustave  Verbeek.  i2mo,  cloth,  $1.25  net; 
postage,  13  cents. 

Books  that  help  us  to  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
habits,  traits  and  characteristics  of  animals  are  very  welcome. 
The  latest  addition  to  this  literature  is  a  volume  of  spirited  and 
well-told  stories  from  the  pen  of  Ellen  Velvin,  a  writer  of  many 
successful  books  for  children,  a  magazinist  of  acknowledged  abil- 
ity, and  a  Fellow  of  the  Zoological  Society,  (London.) 


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